Marian: Through the Looking Glass
by JAGNikJen
Summary: Marian is thrown from her horse and finds herself in a situation she never could have a imagined. A/U
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood or Robin, Marian, Gisborne, Much, et al. I am making no money off of this endeavor. All I've earned is the joy in the writing and the possibility of some nice feedback.

~*~*~

**Marian: Through the Looking Glass, Chapter One**

Marian eyed Much for several long seconds until she was sure he would do as Robin had asked.

He finally nodded, almost imperceptibly, and Marian offered a single nod in return before moving around him and back to her horse.

Much was such a ninny sometimes. And such a man that he let himself be blinded by a pretty face. She smiled. Even Guy could be persuaded by half a smile and a batted lash. The only men who seemed impervious to her charms were—she shuddered—the sheriff and Robin.

Marian sighed as he swung herself into her saddle and turned Vesper toward Knighton Hall. It was already dark, and she was still a good ten to fifteen minutes from home. Father would be worrying soon, and she did not wish to raise his ire. But she dared not risk going faster than a walk until she reached the crossroads.

The path from Bonchurch to the crossroads wound along the edge of the forest. The area near Bonchurch was unfamiliar to Marian, the lodge having been empty for quite some time before the sheriff decided to use Much, and she rarely came this far out, even as the Night Watchman. Still and all, it was a lovely evening to be out.

The moon sat fat and white on the lower edge of the sky, the stars just now showing. Soon, the dark sky would be filled with stars. Just a hint of sweet-scented flowers still tinted the cooling air.

Vesper sidestepped and quivered in nervousness. Marian patted the horse's neck. "What is it, girl?" she asked, her own senses going on alert.

The horse blew air out of her nostrils and began prancing. The harness chinked and clanked softly in the night. An owl's hoot sounded across the cool night air. The buzz and thrum of the night insects filled the silence.

Marian tightened her hold on the reins and glanced around; she saw nothing except the shadows of bushes and trees. She wasn't really afraid of the forest...Robin's presence kept it free of other, less honorable, outlaws. But she couldn't help the ripple of apprehension that shook her.

Without warning, Vesper reared slightly and took off at a canter when she landed, jerking Marian slightly off balance. Marian's heartbeat instantly matched Vesper's frantic stride. Marian adjusted her seat and her hold on the reins, allowing the horse to relieve its fright with speed.

The close screech of a night bird sent Vesper veering for the forest. As Vesper crashed through the trees and underbrush, panicked creatures flew in every direction, startling Marian and scaring Vesper even further.

Marian leaned low along Vesper's neck to keep from being caught by low hanging branches or the skeletal arms of the bushes, her heart thundering in time to Vesper's irregular cadence. But the bare branches grabbed at her hair, yanking harshly.

Suddenly, Vesper stopped and reared. Marian lost her balance and her seat.

"_Robin!_" she screamed, the sound echoing through the night. Another flight of birds, or possibly bats, rushed through the trees.

Tumbling out of the saddle, she fell sideways and backwards, her left foot wedging in the stirrup. Her ankle wrenched painfully, and she cried out as she hung upside down, her shoulders and head hitting the ground hard. A large, sharp stone dug into her head, blinding pain radiated into her arms and legs. Groaning, she clenched her eyes shut against the intense pain.

The horse continued her forward movement, dragging Marian with her; Marian's shoulder and head thudded along the hard, uneven ground, making her head pound with each bump. It hurt so badly, she could barely think, not to mention the horrible throbbing in her ankle, but she had to free herself.

Marian tried to lift herself up to grab for the reins, but her arms were too sluggish and numb to work properly; her ankle protested with a blast of pain that robbed her of breath; and the reins were too far out of her reach. She let herself roll backwards again, sobbing and gasping for air. She swiped an arm across her eyes.

Vesper finally stopped, and Marian took a moment to gather herself.

She would have one more go at freeing herself from the stirrup, and if she could not, she'd just have to be dragged through the forest by the horse.

Taking several deep breaths, she rolled herself up and forward and reached for her ankle. Excruciating pain roiled from her ankle, up her leg, and then reached her head in a huge explosion of hurt.

Marian's cried out and grabbed her head, her body jerking back to her mostly upside down position.

The horse startled again and took off. Spots of blackness swirled about her even with her eyes closed, and she bounced along for several interminable seconds, her head banging along the ground and several large rocks, until her foot finally pulled loose from her boot.

Marian landed with a final thud, but then everything was blessedly still. The ground vibrated mildly as Vesper galloped away, the sound of her hooves beating against the earth fading into silence.

Throbbing and pounding reverberated through her body. Blackness encroached and she had neither the strength nor the will to fight it very hard. She just hoped that someone found her horse and realized she was missing sooner rather than later.

The cool night air settled on her and she shivered. Thankfully, it was mid-summer, so the chance of her expiring from the elements was rather non-existent. Now, creatures coming to nibble on her for dinner was quite another thing...but at this point, she didn't care...couldn't care. She just had to find relief from the pain...the darkness pressed in on her, the pain waning into nothingness...

To be continued…

4


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood or Robin, Marian, Gisborne, Much, et al. I am making no money off of this endeavor. All I've earned is the joy in the writing and the possibility of some nice feedback.

~*~*~

Chapter Two

Robin watched with a smile as Allan, Will, and John hazed Much. As much as he loved his friend, Much would be unbearable if the boys did not take him down a notch or two.

And where was Djaq? Although she tolerated Much much better than the rest of them did. Must be because she was a woman and had more patience. And she almost always had the right words and the tact to handle him without getting him all riled up. Or him realizing he'd been handled.

Robin was surprised Much didn't seem to harbor feelings for Djaq, but as far as Robin could tell, only Allan and Will had shown any inclination in that direction. It would be interesting to see how it played out and if Djaq would feel the same way toward one or the other.

Robin gazed around the camp to the last place he'd seen her. He nodded and grinned...just as he'd expected—fishing Lambert's ledger from the flames. Robin turned away, anticipating her glance around to see if anyone was paying attention to her. When Robin looked back, she'd already stashed the ledger somewhere and was now moving toward the jumble of men.

Everyone stilled at the same moment, all eyes large and glancing at one another. Much moved silently and poured dirt on the fire. One by one, the gang dispersed and became one with the trees and the murky early evening gloom.

A horse galloped down the trail.

"Robin! Robin!" called the rider.

Robin frowned. He knew that voice. That was..._Sir Edward_. What would Edward be doing here in the fores—

_Marian!_

Robin dashed toward the road. "Edward! Edward!" he yelled, hoping the other man could hear him over the noise of the horse and his own cries. Robin skidded to a halt and began to wave his arms as Edward crested the last hillock.

Edward slid from the heaving beast before it had come to a complete stop and Robin had to catch the winded man before he collapsed to the ground.

"Edward, what is it? What's happened? Is it Marian?"

Nodding, Edward gasped for breath. "She's missing," he wheezed, bent over, hands on knees. "Her horse—it returned without her this morning."

A knot of dread tangled inside Robin's stomach. She could be hurt or worse—and who knew how long she'd been out there. _Right—_

Robin whirled to face the gang, who had all approached. "We need to split up into pairs. Who saw her last?"

"Probably me, master," Much said. "Last night when she passed on your message for Eve..."

"Yes, right, Much. So let's start at Bonchurch and track her progress." Robin turned back to Marian's father. "Edward, go back to Knighton—we'll keep you updated. And get Matilda on your way. We _will_ find her." He clapped Edward on the shoulder. "You have my word."

Edward nodded, still somewhat breathless. "I know. Thank you."

"Let's go, men," Robin cried.

As one, they moved in the direction of Bonchurch. Allan and Djaq buddied up, as did John and Will, leaving Much trailing behind Robin. By the time they arrived, the sun had sunk past the horizon, leaving a dispersing sunset in its wake.

Darkness was overtaking them and quickly, but there was no help for it. They couldn't leave her out there for possibly a second night. They would just have to slow down and be more precise in their search.

Much stood where he had last night when he'd spoken with Marian. "This is where we were. She went that way." Much pointed down the slightly overgrown lane toward the crossroads, and Locksley and Nottingham beyond. "I didn't stay long to watch her, though. I'm sorry, Robin."

"Much, it's not your fault. It was an accident." Robin cuffed Much's shoulder. "Let's follow the horse's tracks and see where it leads us."

The gang hurried along the lane—luckily there were very few horseshoe prints in the dirt and the trail was easy to follow, even in the waning light.

Robin stopped. "Something happened here," he said, pointing at the ground. The tracks became blurry and over-trodden. He expanded his perusal to the grasses alongside the path. Spotting broken stalks, he said, "This way!"

En masse, the gang moved toward the tree line, following the bent, broken, and trampled path of the grasses.

"We need light—Djaq, go back to camp and grab what we need for torches. And bring supplies for a litter." _Damn_, he should have thought of that before. They were wasting precious time.

With a nod, Djaq took off at a brisk pace.

"Now, what, master?" Much asked, scratching his head.

"Well, we cannot wait too long—Will, John, look for some long sturdy poles for the litter," Robin said, fear gnawing his gut. _Please, God, let her not be hurt, at least, not too badly..._

The two men disappeared into the trees.

"Now, Much, Allan, let us start at the entrance to the forest where the horse appears to have gone in. We will go slow and look for signs of which direction they went."

But the sky was now dark and the forest even darker without any ambient light from the faint streaks of light left in the sky. There was no way.

Yesterday, when she'd come to report Lambert's death and he'd been able to hold her...he relished the memory of her in his arms, of offering her comfort. They'd called a truce, but he'd never apologized for going away, for hurting her.

"Hurry, Djaq, hurry..." Robin muttered, looking down the lane. He had to find her...


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood or Robin, Marian, the Gang, et al. I am making no money off of this endeavor. All I've earned is the joy in the writing and the possibility of some nice feedback.

~*~*~

**Marian: Through the Looking Glass, Chapter Three**

"Robin, over here," John called loudly through the trees. "Djaq."

John stood over Marian's still body, his flickering torch casting an orange glow over her deceptively serene face.

Djaq dropped to her knees next to Marian and listened. "She's alive. Marian, wake up." Djaq shook Marian gently and patted her face.

Marian moaned in response, her head rolling from one side to the other, but she didn't awaken.

"I have seen this before," Djaq said looking at Robin. "It is a coma, a deep sleep while the body heals or—"

Robin nodded, his face tightening with the ramifications of Djaq's unspoken words. "Or not," he whispered.

"Master, you were in a coma with a far worse wound and you survived," Much offered, although he didn't sound as hopeful as Robin would have liked.

But it was true. Much and the doctors had apparently fretted over him for weeks while fate decided whether or not to spare him. "Aye, Much. We must get her home. Djaq, do you think she is safe to travel in the litter?"

"Let me examine her. Bring the torches 'round so I can see better."

Robin stepped back to give her room, but the other men moved forward and circled her, holding the torches over the two women.

Starting at Marian's head, Djaq began her once-over. She touched Marian's head, pulling another groan from her. Djaq pulled her hands away and held them up. "She has a head wound; there is blood. Not a lot, but enough. She was probably knocked out at some point."

"Is it bad?" Much asked softly, worry tainting his voice.

"We will not know until we can clean it up, but it is a good sign that she reacts to the pain. Her sleep is not too deep," Djaq said, continuing down Marian's body. Djaq inspected each arm and leg. Djaq palpitated and then rolled Marian's right ankle and then her left ankle.

Marian cried out sharply. All the men jumped.

Djaq looked at Robin. "Her ankle will need to be set, and the head wound tended to, but other than that, I cannot find any other wounds. As long as she is not jostled too much, the litter will be fine."

"Right, then, lads—let's prepare the litter," Robin said.

Within a few minutes, they had the litter set up and were rolling Marian into it. Robin's heart stopped every time she sounded out in pain.

Djaq laid a soft hand on his arm. "I know you do not wish her to be in pain, but it is a good thing right now that she cries out. That means her sleep is not so deep that she should not wake up rather quickly."

Robin looked into Djaq's warm brown eyes, saw the compassion there. "Thank you, Djaq. Can you go on ahead to Knighton, and let Edward know we've got her, and then talk to Matilda about Marian's condition so that you can be prepared when we get her there?"

Djaq nodded. "Of course. Be gentle, lads," she called and then disappeared into the darkness.

The men finally found a pace that wasn't so fast that Marian moaned and groaned continually, but was fast enough for Robin. Once they exited the trees, they were able to move a bit faster.

As they approached Knighton, Edward came running from the house. "Oh, thank goodness. How is she?" He scrambled alongside the men as they hurried toward the hall.

"No change," Robin panted. They squeezed through the front door and gently set the litter and Marian on the floor.

Edward knelt by her head and tenderly brushed back a stray dark lock from her forehead. "Oh, my dear..."

"Okay, so how do we get her upstairs?" asked Allan, breathlessly.

"Just undo the sling from the poles. Then we grab the blanket close to her body and go up," said Robin. "John, can you handle her head on your own, keeping her level?"

"Aye." John nodded.

"All right, Much and I will lift her feet."

The men got into position.

"On three," said Robin. "One, two, three..."

With careful and deliberate movements, the men made it up the stairs and into Marian's bedchamber, depositing her gently on her bed.

"Now, shoo, all of ya," said Matilda, closing the door behind them.

Robin, John, and Much clattered back down to the main room where Edward was now pouring some ale for them all. "I cannot thank you, enough," he said.

"Edward, please," said Robin. "You know we would have done the same for anyone—"

"Not Gisborne or the sheriff," said Much, his tone pained at the thought.

"_Much..._" Robin said, warning in his voice.

Much huffed. "Well, I wouldn't. Not after everything they've done to us—to _you_."

"I appreciate the sentiment, Much, but we do not leave creatures to suffer interminably, no matter how wild or rabid. We put them out of their misery if needs be."

"Yes, well, I'd certainly like to put the sheriff out of my misery," Much muttered.

Robin cast him a look. Much's expression pinched, but he didn't say anything else.

Marian cried out so loudly that they all heard her and jumped; every head turned to look toward the top of the stairs.

Edward rose and seemed to debate whether or not to go to his daughter.

"They probably set her ankle," Robin said. He wanted to be there with her himself. But she was in good hands, between Matilda and Djaq.

Edward nodded and continued to pace the room.

Robin was ready to crawl out of his skin. No one had said anything for quite some time. The only noise in the room was the crackle of the fire and the creaking of the floorboards as one or another shifted his or her position. After what seemed half the night, Marian's door finally groaned open.

Robin and Edward rose from their seats as Matilda lumbered down the stairs, followed by Djaq.

"How is she?" Edward asked.

"Well, she's got a nasty gash on the back of her head. It's scabbed over so it should be all right, but she's also got a couple of decent sized lumps. So..." Matilda looked at Djaq, who nodded, and then back at Edward and Robin. "...we think that between those two injuries, that's what put her in this deep sleep."

"How long till she wakes up?" Edward asked, now wringing his hands.

"There's no way to know," said Djaq. "But she is young and otherwise healthy, so that should mean she will wake up sooner rather than later."

Matilda nodded in agreement and said, "Her ankle was definitely broken. We snapped it back into place and wrapped it. Even if she wakes up tomorrow, she cannot walk on it for several weeks at least. She will have to be carried or given crutches.

"In the mean time, she can swallow, so she needs to be given water and broth continually, as long as she will take it, to help keep her body somewhat fed so that it can heal itself. Chicken broth is best if you can manage it."

Edward nodded. "Very well."

Matilda turned to Djaq. "It was good to work with you. We must get together sometime so I can learn some more of these Saracen treatments."

"I would like that very much," Djaq said and smiled.

"Edward, I'll be back this evening to check on her," said Matilda.

"John, Allan, Much, please escort Matilda back to Locksley," Robin said. "Then go back to camp."

"Thank you." Edward walked Matilda to the door and handed her a pouchful of coins. The three men followed.

"Will, Djaq, you may as well go back to camp, too. I'll be along in a while," Robin said. The two of them nodded and left as well.

Edward and Robin looked at one another.

"If you have no objection, I'd like to sit with her tonight..." Robin said.

"Of course. You know where to find me if you need me."

Robin nodded and then hurried upstairs. He pulled a small chest next to her bed and sat and then picked up her hand in his. He kissed the back of it. "Marian, you are safe and well now. Please wake up."

He lay his head down and closed his eyes; he was so tired and relieved...he'd just close his eyes for a few minutes.

To be continued...


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood or Robin, Marian, Gisborne, Much, et al. I am making no money off of this endeavor. All I've earned is the joy in the writing and the possibility of some nice feedback.

~*~*~

**Marian: Through the Looking Glass, Chapter Four**

Sir Edward burst into Marian's chamber. "Robin, you must hide. Sir Guy is on his way."

Robin sat up and blinked away the sleep. Marian remained still and peaceful. "Aye, I must return to my men. I will be back tonight."

"There is no nee—"

"There is a need," Robin said, pained. "If not for me and my brilliant plan, she would not be in this condition."

"You did not spook her horse, Robin. You mustn't blame yourself."

Someone pounded on the door. Both men looked toward the sound.

"It is Sir Guy," Edward whispered, his eyes wide with fear and worry.

"Go on, I will be gone." Robin jerked his head in the direction of the window. He would not put Marian or her father in any further jeopardy.

Gisborne pounded again.

Sir Edward nodded and rushed from the room.

Robin leaned over and pressed a kiss to Marian's lips. "Good bye, my love. I will be back."

Guy of Gisborne banged on the door to Knighton Hall once again. Why did it always take so long for someone to answer the door?

"Is anyone at home?" he called and pounded the door.

The door flew open. Guy stepped back in surprise.

"Sir Guy," Edward gasped. "How can I help you today?"

Guy entered and circled the room. "Where is Marian?"

"She has had an accide—"

"Accident? What has happened?" Guy demanded, heading for the stairs, and taking them two at a time.

Edward hurried behind him.

Guy pushed into Marian's bedchamber and took position at her bedside. "Marian?" he called, taking her hand. He looked at Edward. "What happened?"

"She was unseated by her horse and has a broken ankle and a head wound. She is unconscious—in a coma, Matilda said. She takes broth, but remains in this sleep state."

"Matilda," Guy sneered. "Send one of outriders for my personal physician—Pitts on Bathley Street in Nottingham."

"That is quite unnecessary, Sir Guy," Edward said.

Guy glared at Edward and the man visibly shrank. "What will it hurt to get a second opinion?"

"N-none, I suppose..."

"Then do it," Guy snapped.

"Of-of course, Sir Guy." Edward scuttled for the stairs.

How that man had been a sheriff, Guy could not fathom. He was weak-willed and a pushover.

Guy pressed a kiss to Marian's hand. "Marian, please, you must wake up."

He dropped to the chest next to the bed and watched her sleep while he waited for his men to return with Pitts.

An hour later, the pounding of horse hooves alerted him to Pitts' imminent arrival. The doctor entered Marian's chamber with Edward on his heels.

"She seems peaceful enough," Pitts said. "What happened?"

Edward explained again, and Pitts inspected both Marian's head and her ankle.

"Everything seems to be in order. The ankle has been set and immobilized, and the head wound was cleaned well. There is no reason why she shouldn't wake up at any time."

"Then why doesn't she?" Guy asked.

"Head wounds can be tricky, Sir Guy," Pitts said, wringing his hands. "This deep sleep is her body's way of protecting and healing itself. She will wake up when she is ready. There is nothing to be done but make sure she takes in as much nourishment as possible. Rich broths—chicken and beef."

Edward nodded. "Yes, so we were told. Cook has a batch of each down in the kitchen. I was just getting ready to fetch some when you arrived, Sir Guy."

"Don't let me keep you," Guy said dismissively. Perhaps he ought to move her to the castle, where he could keep an eye on her condition himself. Guy sent Pitts away and resumed his vigil.

A short time later, Edward returned with a tray and took a position on the opposite side of the bed.

"Perhaps she should stay at the castle," Guy said. Then he could see her at any time, and Pitts would be close by as well.

Edward looked at him, eyes wide in alarm. "Absolutely not. I fail to see the benefit. This is her home and her bed. She will be more comfortable here. Besides, we cannot know the effects of moving her."

That was the only thing that kept Guy from having her moved anyway. He should have asked Pitts about that. "I will return this evening to check in on her."

"That is not necessary, Sir Guy. As you can see, she has everything she needs," said Edward with a frown.

"I will return this evening," Guy repeated, glaring at Edward.

Edward acquiesced with a nod. "Very well."

~*~

Robin peered around the window frame and into Marian's bedchamber.

"Sir Guy, you cannot stay," Edward insisted for the third time.

Robin wasn't sure what Vaizey had threatened Edward with, but Edward had only a spark of the gumption he had as sheriff. Some days, Robin wished he had never left.

"Someone must watch over her during the night," Guy said.

"I agree, but it cannot be you. It would not look right for you stay the night in her bedchamber even if she is unconscious. I shall stay with her for a time, and then a kitchen maid will come and keep watch."

Gisborne did not argue further, but turned on his heel and left. Edward breathed a sigh of relief.

"I didn't think you would ever get rid of him," Robin said in a low voice.

Edward whirled around to see Robin shimmy through the wooden bars in the window opening and take his position next to the bed.

"I shall keep watch, Edward. Bring some broth, and I will make sure she eats."

Edward nodded and left.

Robin took Marian's hand. "Marian, it's me," he said. "It's time to stop lying abed. I don't know that I want such a lazy wife. I'm a busy outlaw, you know."

When was she going to wake up? Djaq had said there was a window for these comas, that a certain length of time was good, too long was bad, although Djaq didn't really know what constituted too long.

It had been three days since the accident, and one since she'd been found and tended to.

He ran a gentle finger across her forehead. "I'm worried about you, my love; you cannot go on like this much longer."

Edward bustled into the room, setting a tray on the side of Marian's bed.

"How has she been today?" Robin asked.

"Still," Edward replied softly. "Guy fetched the physician Pitts to look at her. He did not add to nor criticize the care she received from Matilda or your friend...?"

"Djaq."

"Jack; what kind of name is that for a young woman?"

"Djaq is her brother's name. He was killed in the war and she wears it to honor him."

"Ah." Edward gazed at his daughter and the silence stretched between them. He looked back and Robin and nodded. "Well, then, I shall turn in. Good night, Robin."

"'Night, Edward."

Robin pulled the tray toward him and began spooning broth into her mouth. It was a tedious job, and it would take quite some time to get the whole bowlful into her. To kill the time, and hopefully rouse her from this sleep, he decided to tell her stories.

"Do you remember the time when you and I tricked Much into the forest...I was sixteen or so, and you were nine, I think...we told him there were..."

Robin talked until the bowl was empty. His mouth hurt from talking for so long, and his lower back ached from sitting in one position.

The household had settled down and Robin didn't think talking aloud anymore was wise. Instead, he gently moved her to one side of her bed and then crawled in next to her.

_If only Gisborne could see this._ Robin chuckled to himself. Oh, yeah that would go over well.

He settled on his side, facing her and sighed. He closed his eyes and let sleep overtake him.


	5. Chapter 5

Marian: Through the Looking Glass, Chapter Five

Marian awakened. Her head pounded, and she squeezed her eyes more tightly shut. Her ankle throbbed, and she flexed her foot, gasping at the zing of pain that shot through her. Why did she hurt like this?

Remembrance flooded her mind―her horse rearing, her slipping from the saddle, her foot hanging in the stirrup, her head banging along the rocky ground, and then finally coming to rest on the forest floor. After that, she remembered nothing until waking up a moment ago.

Blinking several times to clear away the fog of sleep, Marian looked at the ceiling, but her eyes were still a bit scratchy. She squinted at the wooden beams. There was something not quite right about it all, but she couldn't quite grasp what it might be.

A low moan reached her ears and Marian stilled, but awareness and fear rushed through her, exacerbating the pain in her head and ankle. She closed her eyes, letting out the breath she'd held and forced herself to relax and take stock.

Yes, there was a body in the bed with her, but she sensed no threat. She recognized the room although it was not her own. Faint sounds of household activities permeated the closed door. Normal everyday activities.

All right...she _was_ safe.

But who was here? The weight and the heat of the body pressed into her. Surely, Father hadn't climbed into bed with her. So who would do such a thing? Perhaps a kitchen maid assigned to keep watch during the night had gotten too tired. Marian must wake the lass up and let her know that she, Marian, had awakened.

Marian rolled her head slowly to the right. The girl hid beneath the bedclothes, only a small section of medium-brown hair visible. The girl looked rather heavy-set for any of Knighton's kitchen maids, though. Marian didn't remember any of their servant girls being so stocky. Maybe it was a girl from one of the villages, then.

With an elbow, Marian nudged the girl. "Hello, good morning. Wake up, please," she said quietly so as not to pain her head any more than necessary.

A groan.

Marian stiffened, alarm racing through her.

That was not a feminine sound.

The body shifted and sat up, the bedclothes falling to reveal...

_Robin!_

"What are you doing here?" she hissed, glancing toward the door and then back at Robin. "If my fath..."

He rubbed his fists to his eyes and then looked at her. "Marian, you are awake. Thank goodness" He smiled at her.

Her heart did that little flutter thing she hated to admit to.

Wait a minute—how dare he smile? Didn't he realize that if he were caught... "What do you think you are doing here?" she asked again, struggling to sit up. The loudness of her own voice reverberated through her head, the ache becoming a gong. Her stomach roiled, her eyes widened, and she covered her mouth with a hand.

"Are you feeling ill?" he asked, anxiety coloring his voice and worry marring his face.

Marian closed her eyes and nodded in very slow motion. The bed moved a bit as he left it. A moment later, he pressed a basin into her hands.

"I need to lie down," she said. "Help me."

With strong hands at her head and mid-back, he levered her backwards to a supine position. She held the basin to her stomach and rolled to her side, keeping her eyes closed.

Robin pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I shall send for Matilda and your father"

"Thank you," she whispered. She took a couple of deep breaths, and the drumming in her head eased, but only a bit. She opened her eyes just in time to see Robin disappear out the door, his boot steps fading as he descended the stairs.

Then her father must know of Robin's presence. But for him to be in her bed? That was very odd, indeed.

But she had neither the desire nor the ability, really, to think on it any longer. Her stomach still churned although her head felt a tad better.

Marian opened her eyes and perused the room. She swallowed.

Something was wrong. Very, very wrong. Her bedchamber window was to the right of the bed, when she lay on her back. The window in this room was opposite the bed.

The walls in her chambers were a pale pinky/peachy color; these walls were yellow ochre colored.

Looking back at the ceiling, realization rippled through Marian. Aside from the beams, the ceiling was bare; there was a lovely netting canopy above _her_ bed.

This wasn't Knighton, then. This was Locksley.

But how could that be? How long had she been asleep? Certainly not long enough for the king to return, the sheriff to be deposed, and for Robin to be exonerated and given his lands back. But even so, why was she here at Locksley―and why was she in Robin's bed?

Footsteps sounded on the stairs once more, and Robin reappeared.

Crying followed him through the door. _Crying_? Who had children, and why were they here in the manor house?

He knelt next to the bed and smoothed back her hair. "Now, my love, Matilda will be here forthwith, but it will be awhile until your father arrives. And Cook is ready to prepare anything you wish, if you're hungry."

"Who is crying?" Marian asked, still whispering.

"Eleanor is crying for her breakfast; are you up to feeding her this morning?" he asked.

"Me?" Marian's heart dropped, and she went cold all over.

"Of course, you. You are her mother. We have had Mary in to wet nurse the last three days, but since you are awake...."

Marian's eyes snapped shut. She had been asleep or unconscious or... or... _something_ for three days. And in that three days, her world had gone mad.

Very, very mad....

To be continued...

3


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood or Robin, Marian, Gisborne, Much, et al. I am making no money off of this endeavor. All I've earned is the joy in the writing and the possibility of some nice feedback.

~*~*~

**Marian: Through the Looking Glass, Chapter Six**

Robin watched Marian. A look of nausea crossed her face.

She shook her head. "I cannot."

"Very well; I shall have Mary continue."

A light knock sounded on the slightly open door. "Hellooo..." called Matilda as she stepped into the room. "Good to see you awake, Marian. Now, shall we check you out?"

"Right, then―that's my clue to go. I shall see about Eleanor and Claire."

"_Claire?_" Marian asked, confusion coloring her features.

Robin's heart sank. "Aye, _Claire_. Have you forgotten both your daughters, Marian?" he asked. How could she when Claire's birth had almost killed her? She seemed sincere enough in her lack of knowledge, but his shoulder tightened as it always did when something bothered him.

Marian opened her eyes and held his gaze. "I _am_ sorry..."she whispered.

Matilda tut-tutted. "She hit her head pretty good, Robin. It'll come back to her, give it time."

With one last look at Marian, Robin nodded and left, pulling the door shut behind him.

He tiptoed down the hall and pushed open the door to the ladies' chamber and peered inside.

Claire was busy building something with the wooden blocks the older Scarlett boy had fashioned for her. Mary held Eleanor to her breast and smiled at him.

He nodded to her and then returned his gaze to his oldest daughter. Just then she looked up. Her face brightened and she smiled. "Da da da." She dropped her blocks and hurried over to him, holding out her arms. "Up."

Robin's heart flipped. She was the spitting image of Marian, and her smile never failed to affect him. He lifted her up and hugged her. "How is daddy's girl?"

"Not daddy's girl. I'm Claire."

Robin grinned and kissed the tip of her nose. "I'm sorry. How's Claire?"

"Good." She placed one small hand on either side of his face and looked into his eyes. "Where's Ma ma ma?" she asked as she had every morning since Marian's accident. Thankfully, it had only been three days. Marian was usually the one who tended them first thing in the morning while he spent time with them after the mid-day meal and before their nap.

"She's awake today, Claire."

She immediately began to push at his shoulders and wiggle her body to get down. "I want to see Ma ma ma."

Robin held her fast. "I know you do, but Matilda is tending to her first. You can see her in a little while, all right?"

"No. I want to see Ma ma ma now." Her bottom lip pushed forward and she struggled against him again.

Chucking her lightly under the chin, he said, "_Claire._"

She knew his tone meant business and stopped squirming. She looked at him, moisture now brimming on the lower lids of her stormy blue eyes. Eyes so like Marian's, it was all he could do to not give in to her and it had been so since her birth. He was a sucker for tears.

"I want Ma ma ma," she said on a sniffle.

"We'll go see her in a few minutes. Now that she's awake, Matilda must ask her about her owies."

Dark brows drew together. "Ma ma ma has owies?"

Robin nodded. "Yes, Ma ma ma has owies. And just like Ma ma ma tends to your owies, Matilda must look at Ma ma ma's owies."

That seemed to satisfy her and she nodded. Then she pushed at him again. "Down, please, Da da da."

She went over to Mary in the corner and caressed her sister's bald head and then kissed it. "We can see Ma ma ma soon, Ellie," she said. Then she went back to her blocks.

Robin reached his bed chamber just as Matilda exited, pulling the door closed behind her.

"How is she?" he asked.

"The blow to the head was pretty hard, Robin. There are huge gaps in her memory—including her children. Not much is known about head injuries and the long term affects. She may never remember, or her memories may return in bits and pieces. Just have some patience."

His patience with her nonsense had been wearing thin before her accident. He just nodded. "Thanks, Matilda," he said on a sigh.

She patted his arm and offered him a sympathetic look. "It'll all work out, Robs."

She continued toward the stairs, and he steeled himself to see his wife.

He took a deep breath and then entered their chamber. She looked up at him, her eyes large and tired and nervous. He pushed away his questions. They would hold for another day or two. "How are you feeling?" he asked instead.

She shrugged. "I feel a bit achy all over, but the nausea has eased. My head still throbs a bit, but Matilda is going to talk to Cook about how to ease the pain."

Robin nodded now. "Clair would like to see you."

She took a visible breath. "All right. Do I have a special name I call her or anything?"

Robin shook his head. "She doesn't like to be called anything but Claire right now...I'll be right back."

Marian nodded. She had daughters—with Robin. She couldn't imagine what their children might look like. What was she supposed to feel for them? She hadn't said much to Matilda about what had happened and had just answered the other woman's questions about her physical ailments.

"Ma ma ma, I'm coming," called a high-pitched voice.

Marian took a deep breath as the door creaked open and a small girl appeared, no more than three years old. The girl—her daughter—smiled. Marian's breath caught, and she couldn't help but smile back. Claire was lovely.

Her round face was milky white and housed large blue eyes framed by a thick fringe of dark lashes. Mahogany colored curls bounced at shoulder-length and were held away from Claire's face with a narrow cream-colored ribbon. She wore a loose shift in pale blue.

"Ma ma ma," she cried happily and hurried to the bed and climbed into it. She straddled Marian's lap and threw her arms around Marian's neck. "Are you better now?" she asked.

Marian's heart flipped. This was her daughter. A little person who obviously loved her very much. Could it be that she really had forgotten? _No..._how could one forget something as precious as this?

She hugged the little body back, running her hands through the silky curls. "Yes, I am mostly better, Claire," Marian said, testing the name on her tongue. "My head is still hurting, but I am awake now."

Marian looked at Robin and smiled. His mouth turned up slightly on one side, but it didn't reach his eyes. A small knot of apprehension settled in her belly. There was trouble between them, and she was at a distinct disadvantage.

Her gaze dropped to the baby in his arms. A plump little thing in a plain white gown. The baby sat on one of Robin's forearms facing out. Bright blue eyes twinkled with happiness. Both hands were stuffed into her mouth and drool dribbled down her arms making a wet patch on her gown and on Robin's sleeve where his arm crossed her belly to hold her against his chest . Her chubby feet kicked up and down. Unlike Claire, this daughter had very little hair; just a thin veil in very light brown.

Marian's heart melted. Mercy, what a sweet baby.

She had children, and what precious children they were. There was no way she could have forgotten them, no matter how hard she'd hit her head.

Robin regarded her for another moment. He pushed off the door jamb with his shoulder and said, "Come along, Claire. Ma ma ma needs to rest now. You must go play, and then you'll have your lessons."

Claire placed a hand on either side of Marian's face and kissed her soundly on the mouth. "I love you, Ma ma ma."

Marian tightened her hold on the little girl. "I love you, too, Claire."

She caught Robin's gaze and his raised brow across the expanse between them. Well, what was she supposed to say? These babies were going to be easy to fall in love with. So even if it wasn't necessarily true now, it soon would be.

But there was more going on here than Robin being upset because she couldn't remember their children. She could feel it.

Claire slid off the bed and returned to Robin. "Bye, Ma ma ma." She waved and then disappeared out the door.

"I'll be visiting Bonchurch and Nettlestone this morning. I'll see you at mid-day."

She nodded. Claire chattered to Robin all the way down the hall, and Marian smiled again. The girls were precious. But her smile faded as she remembered Robin's brooding appraisal, his anger, banked as it was. She knew _her_ Robin's temperament and figured this Robin could not be so different. She didn't know what could be the cause of such animosity, but now that she was awake and on the road to recovery, it wouldn't be long until things came to a head. Of that, she was certain.

Marian slid from the bed and hobbled to the window, her ankle tender but not paining her much. Robin strode from the house to the barn issuing instructions to Thornton. She could hear their voices, but could not distinguish the words.

Much had disappeared into the barn just as Marian reached the window. He was saddling the horses, she guessed, and would ride out with Robin. In this version of her life, Much was still Robin's manservant. But at least he had enough food and quarters of his own. And regular baths.

A moment later, Much led two horses from the barn, handing the reins of one to Robin. First, Much swung into the saddle and, with a last word to Thornton, Robin did as well.

Robin looked up at the window then. Their gazes met and her breath hitched just a little. She loved him. She did in her other life. How could she not love him here? But she did not know what their immediate past held. What kind of problems did they have as land-holders? As parents? As husband and wife?

Knowing his character as she did, their issues had nothing to do with his position as a noble and land holder. And he seemed comfortable with his role as father. More comfortable than she might have guessed. So that left their marriage. Or more specifically, her....

Her lack of memory would wear thin very quickly. But what could she do?

He nodded to her and wheeled his horse around, kicking it to a trot. A thin plume of dust marked their departure.

Well, she was no missish lady of the manor. Her head still hurt a bit, but it was time to begin her new life. There was no way to know how long she'd be in this alternate reality, but if it so happened that she was here for good, she was not going to lose her husband. She would do whatever it took to fix whatever was wrong. Although not knowing would make it a bit difficult.

She got dressed and made her way slowly down the stairs. As she reached the bottom, the sound of horses and a carriage drifted to her.

The door opened and Thornton stepped inside. When he saw her, he inclined his head. "Milady."

"Thornton. We have guests?"

"Your family, Milady."

"Family?" she asked. "My father?"

Thornton nodded again. "Aye, and your mother and sister."

Joy welled inside her. "My mother...a sister?" She could not believe it. In her world, her mother had died when she was young from a mysterious illness that neither doctors nor medicine women could identify. And now, here, her mother was alive. And she had a sister....

"Please fetch some refreshment, Thornton."

"Yes, Milady." He left to do her bidding.

Her father strode in, glancing about. Spotting her, he smiled. "Oh, Marian, my dear, I'm so glad to see you up and about." He wrapped her in a warm embrace. "You're looking much improved. We were so worried."

"Hello, Father," she said as he released her. "I'm so happy to see you. Where is—"

A plump woman with a pinched face stepped through the doorway. Her dress was a bright light green that fit too snugly. A long feather of the same color protruded from her coiled red hair. She glared at Marian through beady brown eyes.

_That was not her mother._ Father must have remarried. Not that she begrudged him, but...

"Marian," the woman said, her rough voice full of condescension.

Marian nodded, even as her stomach clenched in dread. She had no idea this woman's name. A step-mother. And a step-sister.

A young girl, maybe ten- or eleven-years-old, with long blonde braids peeked around the woman's body. Her large brown eyes sparkled with some sort of delight, but she remained quiet.

Marian smiled at the girl.

The girl smiled back, and Marian stopped breathing. A vision of her mother came to her. Those eyes and her smile. The dimple on her right cheek. This was not a _half_ sister—this was a full flesh and blood sister. The spitting image of her—_their_—mother.

Marian's heart near to burst out of her body. She wanted to throw her arms around the girl. But something held her in check.

The woman cleared her throat. Marian's gaze returned to her, heart sinking like a stone in a pond.

"Come, my dear," Father said, leading his wife to the chair—Robin's chair—near the hearth.

Thankfully, Thornton appeared just then with a tray. There was a pitcher and several goblets, a hunk of bread and a wedge of cheese. He set it on the table with a flourish and a low bow. "Lady Esmeralda," he said. "Your countenance brightens the room. Would you care for a drop?" In an undertone, he added, "I've brought the best."

The _lady_ nodded once, her tight mouth relaxing into a what must be a smile.

Esmeralda?

But what was the girl's name? A sister? She had a sister. Her sister remained near the door. Hands clasped in front of her. She looked more like a young lady-in-waiting than the daughter of...of...a

_Curses on the situation._ Marian had no idea what her father might be about. A noble certainly, but just a land holder?

"We can't be away from the castle for long," Esmeralda said. "But your father insisted we all come."

Her tone made it clear she'd been terribly inconvenienced. But _castle_? There was only one castle hereabouts. And that meant Father was the sheriff. Marian was pleased. He'd so enjoyed being the sheriff and he was good one, if she did say so herself.

"I'm so glad you did," Marian said, finally finding her tongue. She glanced at her sister. She had no idea what the girl's name was or what kind of relationship they had. But she wanted to find out. "Perhaps...my sister can stay here?"

Esmeralda's face pinched tight again. The girl's face brightened. And their father's face fell. He sent a sideways glance at his wife. He cleared his throat and said noncommittally, "Well..."

Marian wasn't quite sure of what was going on. The girl obviously wanted to stay, but her father's wife was against the idea for some reason. And Father...he didn't want to make Esmeralda mad. If she was that much of a monster, why had he married her? Sex or land—one or the other. Maybe both, although Marian couldn't imagine anyone finding Esmeralda attractive. But what did she know? Her virtue was still intact. She had no idea the mysteries of the marriage bed, despite all evidence to the contrary.

The girl winked at Marian and then schooled her features into distaste. "All she'll be having me do is fetch and carry for her," she said.

Marian's heart fell. Was she really such a monster that her sister did not want to stay. No—she'd clearly brightened when Marian had suggested it.

Marian glanced at Esmeralda, whose eyes now glittered with interest. Realization dawned on Marian. "Oh, yes. You see, my ankle is still sore and my head still hur—"

"Then what are you doing out of bed and down the stairs," she asked, her tone filled with disdain.

How did her father live with this woman? Whatever brought them together, she hoped it was worth it.

Marian could say she'd gotten up in preparation of their arrival, but she'd forgotten all about her father and certainly hadn't expected any other family. Marian wasn't sure how her other self treated her step-mother, but she certainly wasn't going to pander to her. Instead, she said, "Well, I have been knocked out for the last three days, and I felt the need to get up and stretch my legs a bit. Now, however, I'm feeling quite exhausted. I could certainly use someone..." _...to keep me company and answer my questions._ She left the sentiment unfinished, assuming Esmeralda would supply her own version of the response. The version the girl had already offered.

Everyone waited as Esmeralda considered the request. She finally nodded. A single, slow nod as if she were a queen conferring some great honor upon her subjects. The feather in her hair barely moved.

"Since you are so fagged, perhaps we ought to return to the castle," her father said obviously relieved to have the one matter decided without issue. Now it seemed as if he were trying to get Esmeralda out of there before she changed her mind.

Esmeralda took one last gulp of the ale and set the goblet back on the table with a thud. She rose and glanced down her nose at the girl. "We shall send the carriage day after next."

The girl offered a small curtsey. "Yes, mum."

Sir Edward hurried toward Marian and gave her swift hug. "Take care, my dear." Then just as quickly, he was by Esmeralda's side, escorting her back to the carriage.

As soon as the carriage door had clicked shut, the girl had her arms wrapped around Marian, her face buried in Marian's mid-section. "Oh, Marian, I'm so glad you're better."

Marian's arms went about the girl's shoulders automatically. "Yes, yes, I'm fine...can I ask you a question?"

The girl pulled away only slightly to look at Marian with her face so like Mother's.

"Of course."

"What's your name?"

To be continued...


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood or Robin, Marian, Gisborne, Much, et al. I am making no money off of this endeavor. All I've earned is the joy in the writing and the possibility of some nice feedback.

~*~*~

**Marian: Through the Looking Glass, Chapter Seven**

"So Marian has awakened," said Much as they rounded the bend away from Locksley.

Robin nodded. "Aye. This morning."

"Well, that is good news, Master."

When Robin remained silent, Much looked at him.

"It is good news, isn't it?"

"Yes, Much, of course it is good news, only she has forgotten things. Important things. Like our daughters."

"Oh. Well. It's not unheard of, Master, to forget things after a blow to the head."

"I know, Much, I know. It's just..."

Much waited a moment for Robin to finish. But the silence stretched out. "It's just what?"

"I don't know. Something doesn't feel right."

"Oh...."

"Never mind, Much. It will sort itself out one way or another. Come, let us get to Nettlestone and do our lordly duties." Robin nudged his horse in the ribs and took off at a canter.

~*~

The girl's eyes widened. "You do not remember me?"

"There is much I have no memory of. I'm sorry. Now, please…your name?" Marian held her breath.

"'Tis Jane."

"Jane," Marian said on a breath. "What a lovely name."

Jane smiled.

"I knew, as soon as you smiled earlier, that you were my true sister--you look so much like Maman." Love swelled within Marian, followed immediately by a longing for her mother.

"She died when I was born. Father married Esmeralda two winters ago."

"Why?" Marian asked.

"Pressure from London, I think. She is rumored to have been a paramour of Prince John."

Marian shuddered. Her father in an intimate relationship with that woman. Maman must be rolling in her grave. But Marian did not want to think of that now.

She had a sister. And she had catching up to do.

"Come, Jane. Let us have a good long visit, I am anxious to know all about you." Marian took her hand and together they ascended the stairs.

~*~

Later that afternoon, Robin slid from his horse and handed the reins to Much. "Is that shrieking?" he asked, striding toward the manor. His pulse raced with worry.

"What is going on?" Robin asked Thornton as he stepped inside.

"Lady Marian and Mistress Jane have taken the little ones outside."

What the hell? Robin's heart thundered in his chest. He'd asked Marian a million times to let the girls play outside, but she'd always said outdoor play was for boys. He hurried outside to see Claire running after Jane, who easily dodged her niece's outstretched arms. Marian sat in a chair bouncing Eleanor on her lap and kissing the baby's hands. Eleanor gurgled in response, a toothless grin on her small face.

Jane saw him first and stopped short. "_Robin_," she exclaimed. Every head swiveled in his direction at precisely the same time, even Eleanor's, and Robin almost laughed.

"Da da da," Claire yelled.

Hand in hand, Jane and Claire ran to him. He met them halfway and scooped Claire up into his arms, while Jane hugged him from the side. "Are you enjoying the outside, my love? Hello, Jane," he added, kissing the top of her head.

"Not my love. I am Claire."

Robin smiled and nodded. "Claire, then. Are you having fun?"

"Yes. Ma ma ma brought us outside to enjoy the fresh air."

"Well, that's just lovely," he said, allowing her to slide down his body to the ground. She and Jane scampered off as he walked toward Marian. "Milady."

He leaned down to place a kiss on her cheek.

"Robin," she said with a tentative smile.

Robin? His heart flipped. She rarely called him by his Christian name anymore. And he had surely missed the sound of his name on her lips. But he was more confused than ever.

"Jane is here. And you are outside."

She cocked her head as she gazed at him, a small smile playing at her lips. He gasped lightly. The usual annoyance was gone. Instead, there was...was that _affection_? He could not leap straight to love. Not after the last few months. He took a deep breath and shook his head. He did not understand. Up until four days ago. she seemed to have no use for him whatsoever.

"Yes, 'tis a lovely day. I thought Claire might enjoy the chance to run around." Her smile faded. "Is that not acceptable…?"

"No, no, it's wonderful, actually. I am glad to see it." He plopped down to the ground and reached out for Eleanor.

Eleanor reached back and practically fell into Robin's lap. He laughed as he grabbed her. "Whoops-a-daisy," he sing-songed as he hoisted her into the air above him and jiggled her a bit.

She laughed.

Pure pleasure rushed through him. "Did you hear that, Marian? She laughed." He looked at his wife. "Her first laugh, I think."

Marian's heart melted at the sight of Robin so excited over the sound of baby laughter. Granted there weren't many sweeter sounds than a baby's belly laugh. But to witness such joy on a man's face because of it was quite a surprise.

"Perhaps we shall skip lessons today and enjoy the day together." Robin handed the baby back to Marian and hopped to his feet. "Come along girls," he called, "we are going to play hide and seek."

Claire rushed to him. "What is hide and seek, Da da da?"

"It is a game, my lo--Claire. I will close my eyes and count to twenty, and you and Jane shall hide. When I am done counting, I will try to find you. If you can, you must try to get back to Ma ma ma's chair before I catch you. Would you like to try it?"

She nodded.

"All right then, Jane will help you hide." Robin crossed his arms along the back of Marian's chair and buried his face in his arms and began counting loudly.

"…eighteen...nineteen...twenty! Ready or not, here I come," he called. "Where are Jane and Claire?"

"Here I am, Da da da!" Claire yelled back, peeking from around the linens hanging on the clothes lines, her face bright with excitement.

Robin laughed out loud.

Marian smiled, love and joy overflowing within her. Who would have ever thought the original charmer of Nottinghamshire would be so enamored of family life?

The rest of the day rushed by and soon it was time for the evening meal, a bath for Claire and Jane, and then bed.

Eleanor had been delivered back to Mary for a feeding and had gone home with Mary for the night.

It had all been so easy and pleasant, but now it was time for Marian and Robin to retire. Uneasiness and nervousness washed over her. She felt his wariness increase as they approached their chamber.

He lengthened his stride and reaching the door first, opened it for her.

"Thank you," she offered softly, her eyes flicking to his.

His eyes were guarded as if he did not know what to expect.

Indeed, she did not know what to expect either. This was the first night she had gone to bed with a man. She did not expect him to pressure her into lovemaking considering she had just woken up this morning from being unconscious for three days.

But did the other Marian undress in front of him? Did they kiss goodnight?

Robin closed the door behind them.

Marian clutched the folds of her skirt to hide the trembling and made for the small dressing room she discovered this morning where their clothes were stored.

"So your first day..." he called after her. "How are you feeling?"

"Oh--I am a bit tired, but it is the good kind, I think." She pulled a nightgown from the hook and hurriedly pulled off her clothes. She tugged on the gown and breathed a small sigh of relief. "My ankle is a bit sore," she said, stepping back into the main part of the chamber. Her gaze fell on Robin and her step faltered. "Oh."

He lay on what must be his side of the bed, a couple of pillows behind him. The bed clothes covered his bottom half, but his top half was bare. He had an arm--his left arm--tucked behind his head and the right resting on his stomach. The were no signs of scars. Not on the back of his arm from the arrow he'd taken whilst shooting food into Clun or on his side from where he was stabbed in the Holy Land.

Of course not--this Robin did not go to the Holy Land and Clun was never quarantined...

His chest was smooth with little hair that she could see from where she stood. It was broader than it looked when he was fully clothed, more outlined and filled out...

She swallowed. Her husband was quite the specimen. And she had to crawl into bed with him. _Oh, dear...._

"Marian?"

She blinked and met his gaze. His tone was brisk, his eyes now bordering on angry.

"Yes?"

"Is something wrong?"

"No. No, of course not." She forced herself over to the candelabra and blew out the candles and then made her way the four steps to the bed. She crawled in and lay on her back, pulling the covers up to her armpits and crossing her arms over her chest.

"G-goodnight, Robin," she offered.

He shifted and scooted for a moment. She felt him looming toward her and stiffened, the sound of her startled inhale loud in the darkness.

"Is my touch that abhorrent to you?" he snapped.

"No," she said in a rush. "I wasn't expecting it. You surprised me, th-that's all."

Whatever was going on between Robin and his Marian was not good. And she didn't know how to solve it here in the marriage bed. Her innocence in this area was going to be a problem.

"I'm sorry, Robin," she whispered. "What is it that you..."

"A kiss, Marian. I wanted to kiss my wife goodnight."

"Oh.... Yes, of course." She was afraid. No. Not afraid. But her lack of knowledge made her nervous. She forced herself to relax. To loosen the covers from around herself. To roll toward Robin. _Please, please take over from here...._

He slid a hand along her jaw, his fingers tunneled into her hair, and he cupped her head. His lips covered hers with a tentative touch.

Ripples of love and warmth and something else flowed through her. Whatever was wrong could be fixed. He loved her still and she, this _she_, loved him and would figure out a way to make it right. She leaned into him, increasing the pressure.

He inhaled sharply through his nose, and Marian broke the kiss, nice as it was. "What is it?"

He plopped back down. "You are much changed from before your accident. I do not know what to make of it."

"My memory..." Oh, was she different, all right, but she doubted he'd believe her if she told him her story. He would think her quite mad.

"No, it is not just that. You are different."

"I'm sorry." Perhaps fixing what was wrong was more cruel―what if she went back to her other life, and the Marian who belonged here returned and things became worse for Robin and their daughters. She sighed. Now, she really did not know what to do. "Let us sleep," she said, quietly. "Perhaps I will be myself in the morning."

Robin mumbled something that sounded like, "I hope not," and rolled away from her.

Marian's heart sank. Things must be horrible between them if he did not want his Marian back. But, still, he loved her. She didn't know what to do, but London wasn't built in a day, so she would worry about it on the morrow.

Marian awoke suddenly and stilled, although her heart pounded. A weight pressed into her, rough heavy breathing warmed her shoulder, and a hand cupped her breast.

She took a breath and forced herself to relax. Of course, married couples spooned and snuggled.

Robin had found a spark of hope in the changes he perceived, odd as they seemed to him. She'd gotten the distinct impression that it had been quite some time since he'd shared any type of intimacy with his wife, even the mildest kind. And that made her sad.

She lay, listening to the pre-dawn noises―Robin almost-snoring, the cock crowing in the barnyard, the faint sounds of the manor coming to life.

She took a slow deep breath and concentrated on the closeness and the touch of a man on her body. It was quite nice, actually. What would it feel like to return that touch, to initiate a…moment between them. To see his reaction.

Robin stopped breathing so heavily. And she realized that he'd awakened. Her stomach fluttered and she swallowed.

Neither of them moved. It was up to her. She released the breath she'd caught and whispered, "Good morning, husband."

He physically relaxed behind her, and even leaned a bit closer and squeezed slightly. "Good morning, wife."

His hand tightened around her breast. Awareness rippled through her, her pulse racing, and she inhaled. She knew it was not a move designed to initiate lovemaking, just part of his hug, but it surprised her.

Robin sat up in a huff, throwing the bed clothes off and sliding from the bed.

She rolled over to look at him and gasped. Loudly. She couldn't help it. He was completely naked. She'd never seen a naked man before. And his...his _thing_ was sticking straight out. The blood rushed to her head and she suddenly felt light-headed.

"Marian, I do not understand why you act like an innocent maid. We have been married for four winters. We have children..."

She dragged her gaze from his man-part to his face. "I, I know...but in my memory, I am an innocent maid. In my memory, I have never...been with a ma--with you."

He disappeared into the small room and appeared a few minutes later fully dressed.

She sighed in relief, but whether from maidenly sensibilities or something else she did not know.

She sat up as he scooped up his clothing from the day before and threw them back into the dressing room. Oh, no...he was upset again, but she did not want him to spend the day brooding and then returning home in high dudgeon. She had to do something. But what?

"I must go. I have to travel to Barnsdale and Kirklees today. It will be well past the mid-day meal before I am home." He moved toward the door.

"All right," she said nodding. "Robin?"

He stopped in the doorway and eyed her, but didn't say anything.

_You can do it, Marian_.

She slipped from the bed and resisted the urge to cross her arms and hide herself from his gaze. But his eyes remained glued to hers as she crossed the short distance. Pushing up on tiptoes, she pressed a kiss against his scruffy cheek. "Have a pleasant day, my lord husband."

He grabbed her upper arm as she stepped back. Her gaze flew to his.

The look in his eyes made her shiver.

"Marian," he growled, crushing her to him and slanting his lips across hers. He took advantage of her gasp of surprise and plunged his tongue into her mouth.

Wave after wave of sensation washed over her as Robin's tongue swirled and danced along hers. Her knees wobbled and she grasped handfuls of his tunic.

When he ended the kiss, he rested his forehead against hers and looked into her eyes. "Ha―" He cleared his throat. "Have a good day, my lady wife."

With that, he released her and disappeared out the door, leaving her feeling vaguely bereft. She placed and hand on her mouth, the skin on her chin tingling. _Oh, my...._ Is that what it felt like to be ravaged?

Marian moved to the window and watched for Robin. Much exited the barn leading two horses. A moment later, Robin strode from the house. In a single motion, he accepted the reins of his horse and swung into the saddle.

He looked up at the window. At her. Even at this distance, she felt the heat of his gaze. She was playing with fire....

To be continued....


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood, Robin, Marian, Guy, et al. I have earned nothing from the endeavor except the joy that comes from the writing and the possibility of a nice comment or two.

~*~*~

**Marian: Through the Looking Glass, Chapter Eight**

Robin made his way out Marian's window and through the barn. He peeked out the small crack in the door.

"Is summat the matter?" said a young voice.

Robin's stomach dropped like a stone, and he whirled around.

Young Daniel, Knighton's stable boy stood there, his arms partially raised in surprise.

"Oh, Daniel, you scared me." Robin shook his head and chuckled and then took a deep breath to calm his pounding heartbeat.

"Sorry."

"It's all right, lad. I was just making sure the coast is clear for me to go back to the forest."

"You'd better hurry. I'm the only one about so far, but the others will be along soon."

"Right, then. Thank you." Robin ruffled the boy's hair and, after a last quick glance into the open space between the barn and the trees, he dashed across the expanse.

Much was up and starting breakfast when Robin arrived back at the camp.

"Master, how is Marian?" he asked looking up with hope shining in his guileless blue eyes.

Robin shook his head. "The same, my friend."

Much's shoulders slumped at the news, and he hung his head. "I am truly sorry. It is my fault. I shou―"

"No, Much!"

Much startled and looked up at him with big eyes. "Bu-but, if I had ju―"

"If, if, if, Much." Robin raked a hand through his hair. "If her horse hadn't spooked. If I hadn't insisted she take you the message. If I hadn't come up with that stupid plan. It is my fault."

"It wasn't a stupid plan, Mast―_Robin_. We kept the black powder from falling into the sheriff's hands. That has to count for something. What happened to Marian was just an accident. And her horse could have just as easily spooked had she been riding back from the castle."

"Then I would blame Gisborne!"

At least, then, he wouldn't feel so helpless and guilty. Responsible.

Much smiled. "No, you wouldn't..."

Robin deflated. "No. I wouldn't."

"Much, is right, Robin," Djaq said, rubbing her eyes as she joined them. "It was just an accident. You must not blame yourself."

"Is there anything else we can do, Djaq?" Robin asked. Surely, there was something. Anything. Smelling powders, sharp pokes to the feet. A bucket of cold water.

She shook her head. "It is just waiting now."

~*~

Guy rode steadily toward Knighton. Thanks to Hood, it had been a sennight since he'd actually had enough time to visit Marian. The sheriff had been furious about losing the black powder and had been quite inventive in his punishments, which included everything from early morning drills with his incompetent guards to inspections of every nook and cranny of the castle. But the sheriff's anger had finally died down somewhat, and he was now busy hatching some new plot he had yet to reveal.

And as Guy had not heard from Edward and, therefore, did not know whether Marian had wakened from her state or not, Guy had been eager to make a visit.

Edward opened the door in a timely fashion, for once, and allowed Guy upstairs without argument.

Guy stood in the doorway and gazed upon Marian. Tendrils of warmth flowed through him even as fear prickled his heart. What if she didn't wake up? She was the only thing of beauty in his life and if she... He swallowed. If she died...

He would not think of it. She would not die. He would not allow it.

He crossed the small space and sat on the edge of her bed. He caressed her cheek and then took her hand, rubbing his thumb along the back of it. She looked a little pale.

Of course, she looked pale. She'd been laid up for over a week and getting no sunlight.

But she still looked lovely.

"Marian, I..." What did one say to an unconscious woman? He glanced about, but no one seemed to be spying on him. Not even Edward hovered close by. He cleared his throat. "Marian, it is time to get well. I am anxious to see you...to speak with you."

He heard the stairs creak. Someone ascended.

He dropped her hand and rose, taking a step away.

Edward bustled in carrying a small tray with a bowl of what Guy presumed to be some sort of broth and a spoon. "It is feeding time, Sir Guy. Would you care to stay? It should only take an hour or two to get this into her."

An hour or two? Guy had much better things to do than play nursemaid. That was a job for women and old men. "No. I must return to my duties.... Notify me directly should she awaken," he ordered.

Edward looked at him, an eyebrow cocked.

The man had a bit of nerve left in him. _That_, he could respect. Guy exhaled. "We are still betrothed," he said, although somewhat less severely.

Edward nodded and then turned back toward Marian, spooning some broth into her mouth. She swallowed although some of the liquid dribbled back out and down the side of her face.

_Ugh._ Guy turned his gaze away. "I shall return in the next day or two unless I hear otherwise." He turned on his heel and exited.

~*~

Robin returned to Marian's bedside as the sun dropped behind the horizon.

"How has she been today, Edward?" he asked, tiredly. The day had been a busy one. And Marian's condition continued to weigh on him.

"She seems better, I think," he said, offering Robin a small smile. "She seemed to swallow the broth easier."

"That is good news," Robin said, hope surging through him for a moment. "She will wake up soon then?"

"I'm sure she will," Edward said, patting Robin's shoulder on his way to the door. "We must have patience." He pulled the door shut behind him, and Robin was alone.

Firs, Djaq; now, Edward. Robin was tired of waiting. Surely, there was something he could do, to make her know, somehow, how much he needed her. He gathered her in his arms and shook her lightly. "Marian, you must wake up. If you do not, I do not know what I will do.

"Marian, please...I have need of you." He buried his face into her neck. "I...I love you...."

~*~*~

Marian watched Robin and Much until they rounded the bend and were out of sight. The day loomed ahead of her, and she did not know what to expect when Robin returned. In the mean time, she must see to the girls and spend time with Jane.

After dressing quickly, Marian hurried down the landing toward the _ladies chamber,_ as Robin called it.

A wave of cold washed over her, an overwhelming feeling of anguish stopping her mid-step. She bent under the weight of it, her breath leaving her in a rush.

_....I have need of you. I love you...._

The words kissed her mind. Sadness and despair gripped her. She looked around for someone. Anyone. But there was no one.

She stood a moment longer, but the cold and the emotion vanished. She shook her head and moved forward. Crying and laughter drifted through the door ahead. Time to see her daughters.

_Daughters_. She was a mother. Claire called her Ma ma ma. The title sat uncomfortably on her shoulders, but the girls were adorable. The thought of them alternately amazed and daunted. Claire had her father's stubbornness and charm, and Eleanor seemed to have all his sweetness.

She pushed open the door to find Eleanor sitting in Mary's lap while Claire stood before her making funny faces and then calling out, "Boo!" causing Eleanor to chuckle. It seemed even young big sisters were stirred by the sound of baby laughter, and Marian smiled at the picture they made. If only there was a way to preserve the moment. Mary's son sat on the floor beside her, fussing.

"Good morning, my prett―Claire."

Claire rushed Marian. "Ma ma ma!"

Marian picked her up and hugged her. She closed her eyes and inhaled the sweet scent of roses that surrounded her oldest child.

Eleanor's gurgle caught Marian's attention and she set Clair on her feet. Marian reached for her baby. "Here let me take her so that poor Thomas does not think he's been replaced."

Mary chuckled and handed Eleanor to Marian.

Marian cuddled the baby for a moment. "Hello, pretty girl, look how big you are getting." Ellie smiled and grabbed one of Marian's curls, pulling it to her mouth.

"She is _Ellie_, not pretty girl," Claire exclaimed.

Marian looked at her standing there with hands on hips. The stubborn set of the jaw and the willful look in her eye was very much Robin, despite the child resembling Marian quite closely. She almost laughed, but caught herself. It was time to be a _mother_.

"Claire, do not speak to me in that tone. I well know your sister's name and choose to call her pretty girl as a term of affection. If you do it again, I will make you sit in the corner. Do you understand?"

The little girl's eyes widened and her lip thrust forward, but she nodded.

"Now, shall we go downstairs and break our fast?" Marian softened her voice so Claire would realize the matter would not linger.

Claire nodded.

Marian held out her hand. Claire eyed it and hesitated a moment before sliding her hand into Marian's.

Did the girl's real mother not discipline them? Claire had seemed surprised by the correction. Well, that would certainly change. _This_ mother would not tolerate disrespectful or out-of-control children. But she certainly would tend to them. They were her responsibility after all.

The day passed rather quickly. Too quickly for Marian's peace of mind. Marian and Jane had worked with Claire on her lessons, which were nothing more than ABCs and some simple counting. They played for a bit before the mid-day meal, and then Jane had been fetched back to the castle shortly after. The girls―her daughters―were now napping, and Marian found herself with time on her hands.

Time to think about the coming evening, about Robin and the other Marian's marriage, her role as wife. The strange happening on the landing came to mind as well, but she still did not know what to make of it.

She wandered around the manor inspecting the brick-a-brack and tapestries and things. The other Marian was very much like her in taste. Except where her husband was concerned. Of course, there was no way to know what had really been going on between them, but it seemed as if most of the blame lay at the feet of her other self―much as she hated to say it. What had she done to make Robin so mistrustful, suspicious, and unhappy? Marian wished she knew, but Robin would think her totally mad if she just came right out and asked. Or would he?

What would he think if she told him she was not really his wife?

The sound of horses caught her attention and she went to the open door.

Her heart danced a little jig and her stomach dropped. She was both excited to see him and, yet, nervous about the encounter; especially after the kiss this morning. Just thinking about it again made her breath hitch.

He caught her looking and tilted his head in her direction. A moment later, he slid from his horse and came toward her.

"A ride, my lady wife?" he called.

She nodded.

"Much, please saddle the lady's horse."

"Yes, Master," replied Much before pulling his own horse into the barn.

Robin reached her a couple of steps later and held out his hand. "Marian..." he said, bowing slightly.

Marian beamed and placed her hand in his. She very much liked this gallant and charming Robin. But was it the real Robin? Or was he responding to her overtures from this morning?

Well, why couldn't it be both?

They walked hand-in-hand toward Robin's horse, who had wandered to the water trough.

Her blood gamboled and tripped through her veins at the contact, leaving her a bit breathless.

"You are home early," she said.

"How are the girls?" he asked at the same time.

Marian smiled, glancing at him.

Robin chuckled.

"They are well, today. Jane has gone back to the castle, and Claire and Ellie are napping at the moment. Claire and I had a moment."

"Oh?" His brows arched over two incredibly green eyes.

Marian found herself trapped in their depths; the color like the variegated greens of the trees of Sherwood forest back-lit by the setting sun. _Enchanting...._

She knew those eyes so well. Knew their language. Knew their depths.

"Here is your horse, my lady," called Much.

Marian blinked and the spell was broken.

Robin's mouth turned down just a fraction at the interruption, but took Vesper's reins from Much and turned the horse so that Marian could mount.

"Please tell Thornton that we shall return before the evening meal," Robin instructed Much and then re-mounted his own horse.

"Yes, Master." Much hurried toward the house.

Robin clicked his mount into forward motion and Marian nudged hers into step. They rode side-by-side in an easy silence.

After a short while, they came upon a small pond. By mutual agreement, they dismounted and trod the few feet to a log and sat.

The late afternoon was a lovely one. The dropping sun warmed her back. A slight breeze ruffled the trees and rippled the water. A faint _ploop_ sounded when a little fish jumped after an insect.

"I confess I am confused by you, my wife. And, yet, drawn to you. Five days ago, you were angry and taciturn. You seemed to feel our daughters were a burden. You could barely tolerate being around them...or me."

His voice dropped with the last admission. Her actions had wounded him terribly and her heart sank. Surely, the other her wasn't such a horrible person or so terribly different from who she was currently. Something awful must have happened to her.

This she had loved Robin from an early age. She'd been barely eleven when her father had been installed as sheriff and they'd met Lord Malcolm and the young master Robin. She'd been smitten from the first.

"You wanted nothing to do with me. And now…you are happy and affectionate and…different. For the last two days, I have woken with the fear that _you_ will wake up with your memories returned.

"I love you, Marian, and, yet, I dread a return to our former life."

"Robin, I don't know what to say."

He grabbed her upper arms and gave her a shake. "Say you love me, too," he entreated, his eyes almost wild. The gossamer feeling of sorrow and anguish swirled around her, and the feelings from this morning returned.

_That had been _her_ Robin!_

In her real world, she was either unconscious or dead.

No, not dead. She hadn't felt grief or loss, mainly distress.

"_Marian_? Do you love me?"

She blinked and looked at him.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood, Robin, Marian, Guy, et al. I have earned nothing from the endeavor except the joy that comes from the writing and the possibility of a nice comment or two.

~*~*~

**Marian: Through the Looking Glass, Chapter Nine**

His harsh tone brought her back to the here and now. To this field, this day. To this Robin who had need of her. She didn't know how to help _her_ Robin, but if there was any sort of justice in this situation, perhaps helping this Robin would also help hers.

Love swelled in her being for them both. He had a need to be loved. Of actually knowing, for whatever reason, that he _was_ loved. No wonder he responded so well to the girls. That was unconditional love right there, handed to him on a platter.

"Oh...yes, of course, I love you...more than life itself."

He crushed her to him, burying his face in her neck, and pressing kisses along her skin.

She clung to him, holding him as tight as she could, stroking his head, tangling her fingers in the hairs on his nape. Enjoying the sensations that shivered through her.

The waning golden rays of the sun shone down upon them, surrounding them with warmth and beauty. She wanted to cry from the sheer overwhelming rush of love.

He pulled back, his eyes shiny with emotion, but he wouldn't look directly at her. "If you don't mean it, don't say it," he begged, his voice cracking slightly.

Her own eyes filled at his entreaty, her heart breaking. "Listen to me--" She took his head in her hands and forced him to meet her gaze. "--no matter what happens, no matter what you think, I love you with all my heart and soul. Nothing is ever going to change that.

"I understand that you have been hurt. That _my_ actions have hurt you. But, somehow, _somehow_, I know that it wasn't lack or loss of love."

Certainty filled her. Whatever was going on with Robin's real Marian, it had nothing to do with her love for him. She didn't know how she knew, but she did. She felt it, deep within her.

His gaze bored into hers. "Promise?"

"I promise," she whispered.

He kissed her then. A kiss so sweet and tender, full of love and promise and passion that, had she been standing, her knees would have given out.

When the kiss ended, they were both breathing heavily, and Marian's heart was pounding.

Softly, Robin said, "We must head back, else Much shall come looking for us before too long."

She nodded, unable to put words together quite yet.

He stood and helped her to her feet, and they held hands back to the horses.

Her Robin had been much the same before he'd left for the Holy Land--affectionate, romantic, passionate, although he did lack the maturity. They'd never gone past heavy petting through their clothing, though. But now...now, she was a married woman and, sooner or later, would be expected to perform her wifely duties. Sooner, if Robin's demeanor was an indicator.

Robin helped her mount and held out his reins to her. She arced a brow in confusion, and then she realized.

_He means to ride with me._

Her pulse took off at a gallop.

He swung up behind her, and they headed back to the manor. The smell of sunshine and mint and Robin surrounded her. Wrapping one arm around her waist, he pulled her close, his front and other hard things pressed against her back. With the other he brushed her hair to one side and pressed kisses along her neck.

When they reached home, she was decidedly stirred by his proximity and found herself fidgety and with an unusual dampness between her legs. It had been quite some time since she'd experienced that sensation. And while she knew its meaning and the logical way in dealing with it, right now was not the time. But the reality of _later_ loomed.

After dismounting and sending the horses off with Daniel, the young stable boy, they walked toward the house, again, hand-in-hand. Robin cast her loving glances as they walked.

A moment later, Claire raced outside calling for her Da da da. Robin's face lit up. He released Marian's hand and knelt to swoop Claire up into the air when she launched herself at him.

Robin laughed. Claire shrieked in delight. Marian smiled and wanted to cry from bittersweet happiness.

Was this really the life they would have had if her Robin had not chosen to follow the king to the Holy Land? And would they be having the same sort of marital issues? She thought about it, but shook her head. No...the presence of Jane in this version of her life precluded the fact that it was just Robin's decision to go to the Holy Land that was the catalyst.

Robin set Claire back on the ground with a noisy kiss to her cheek. She scampered over and slid a small hand into Marian's.

Marian looked at the little girl and swallowed. Hope warred with trepidation on the child's upturned face.

As if her mother didn't allow the affection. _Until this new mother appeared._

Marian's heart cracked again as she squeezed Claire's hand lightly and said, "Hello, my daughter."

Claire opened her mouth.

Marian checked her with an arched brow.

"Mister Thornton says that dinner is ready," Claire said instead.

"Very good," Robin exclaimed. "I'm starving." He cast a glance at Marian over Claire's head, his own brows arched in surprise.

"I'll tell you later," she said.

He nodded.

They all trooped into the manor and enjoyed an exceptionally good meal. Marian didn't know if was because Cook had outdone herself or if it was because Robin kept smiling at her and playing footsies with her under the table. Giddiness and want fought prudence and nervousness.

She had no good reason, except her lack of memory, to put him off. In fact, had things been a wee bit different, she'd consider pursuing intimacies herself, although she wasn't quite sure what was expected or how to go about it. She didn't doubt that once things got started, Robin would take over, but she just wasn't quite ready.

After supper, she left Robin looking at ledgers and took Claire upstairs to ready her for bed.

"I love you, Ma ma ma," Claire said, wrapping her small arms around Marian's neck.

Emotion welled within Marian, and she felt the sting of tears. She sniffed them back before whispering, "I love you, too, Claire. Sweet dreams." And she meant it. She'd fallen in love with her children. She would miss them terribly if―when―she made it back to her own life. Marian pressed a kiss to Claire's dark head. Rising, she tucked the bed clothes around the small body and then left.

What would happen to the girls when their real mother returned? Ellie would be fine at this point as she was probably too young to be affected by much. But Claire...she had so longed for her mother's attention, and was now getting it. If her real mother returned and continued on as before, Claire was going to have a very hard time of it. But Marian couldn't not care for and interact with the girls. The very idea was crazy. So, somehow, she had to figure out what had changed her other self. But right now, she had something or, rather, some_one_ else to worry about.

Robin.

She entered their bed chamber to find him already in bed. The bed clothes rode low on his belly, revealing the fact that he was, at least, partially bare. The thought brought conflicting emotions. Again. She wearied of the north, south, east, and west of her feelings.

He flashed her a roguish grin as she passed through to the dressing chamber. The desire, the temptation, and the nervousness all came flooding back. She returned a tentative smile. What was a girl supposed to do with a man like that?

_Love with him with all your heart, soul, mind, and body..._

She sighed as she pulled on her night rail. The heart, soul, and mind stuff was easy, and already done, if truth be told. The _body_ part was not so simple or easy. She had her reasons, and she knew what they were, even if Robin did not understand, but what lay behind her other self's reticence?

"Marian...?"

"I'm coming," she said, stepping into the main chamber.

"Is everything all right?" Concern laced his tone and clouded his face a bit.

"Of course..." She sent him a small smile and crossed to the candelabra. She blew out the four fat candles and moved toward the hanging lantern in the corner by the window.

"Leave it." Robin's husky tone pulled her gaze. Heavy-lidded eyes followed her.

Her stomach jumped, but she nodded and padded back to the bed. Climbing in, she settled on her left side.

Robin immediately rolled and snuggled up to her. _Naked._ Oh, goodness...her pulse took off, and she resisted the overwhelming urge to scoot away. With a pounding heart, she rolled toward him, inadvertently, but thankfully, forcing some space between them, and propped her head in her hand.

He leaned in and kissed her gently, sweetly…

_He was making this so difficult._

Cupping his cheek and looking him in the eye, hard as it was, she said, "I know you want to...to make love..."

His nostrils flared and his darkened.

"But I am just not quite ready...I-I'm sorry."

He shrugged, not seeming upset at all. "Perhaps, I can pleasure you in other ways..." He glanced at her mouth, a delectable smile tugging at the corners of his.

Marian's heart skipped several beats. She took a deep breath and released it. "Have we done this before...?" There was something in his tone that made her question whether his Marian had allowed him to ever pleasure her in whatever way he was thinking.

"Well, once. When we were first married. But you weren't keen on it, so I never asked again."

"And now?"

Now the roguish smile that always set her heart racing appeared. And since it was already beating quite fast, she felt breathless and lightheaded. Not a good way to be at the moment.

"And now you are different, and I am hoping that, perhaps, you might enjoy it this time."

She inhaled and exhaled again, her stomach fluttering like the leaves in a soft breeze. "I am not saying no. Just remember that you have memories of intimacies with me, but I have no such remembrances. In my head, I am still a maid, and I am nervous as if this were my first time. To me, this _is_ a first, and while I am definitely affected by your attentions, I am anxious."

**To be continued....**


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood, Robin, Marian, Guy, et al. I have earned nothing from the endeavor except the joy that comes from the writing and the possibility of a nice comment or two.

Author's Note: This chapter has an NC-17 version—a short scene was cut from this chapter so that it complies with the FFN rules. If you would like to read the NC-17 version, please visit: jagniken DOT livejournal DOT com.

~*~*~

**From chapter nine:**

Robin shrugged, not seeming upset at all. "Perhaps, I can pleasure you in other ways..." He glanced at her mouth, a delectable smile tugging at the corners of his.

Marian's heart skipped several beats. She took a deep breath and released it. "Have we done this before...?" There was something in his tone that made her question whether his Marian had allowed him to ever pleasure her in whatever way he was thinking.

"Well, once. When we were first married. But you weren't keen on it, so I never asked again."

"And now?"

Now the roguish smile that always set her heart racing appeared. And since it was already beating quite fast, she felt breathless and lightheaded. Not a good way to be at the moment.

"And now you are different, and I am hoping that, perhaps, you might enjoy it this time."

She inhaled and exhaled again, her stomach fluttering like the leaves in a soft breeze. "I am not saying no. Just remember that you have memories of intimacies with me, but I have no such remembrances. In my head, I am still a maid, and I am nervous as if this were my first time. To me, this _is_ a first, and while I am definitely affected by your attentions, I am anxious."

**Marian: Through the Looking Glass, Chapter Ten**

"Is your lack of memory going to be an excuse for everything?" he asked with a bit of impatience.

A small snort escaped her. "What? I have tried _not_ to use it as an excuse for anything, but there are certain situations in which having a few memories would be helpful."

"Like what?"

"Like our marriage, for starters," she snapped and then sighed. She really did not want to start an argument.

"What about it?"

"Well, you say I am different."

"You are."

"Yes, but how? I do not know how I was before. And because I have no idea how things were between us, because I do not know the cause of our trouble, I cannot know how to best fix it. And if I choose one course of action, who's to say that if I...if my memories return, I won't have made things worse?"

"They couldn't get much worse."

His gaze flew to hers, as if he hadn't really meant to say that. Or he worried about her reaction. Or both.

"Now, you see―all I have is your word."

"I am telling falsehoods, now?" His words remained calm, but his eyes began to flash.

"No. _No_." She let out a frustrated breath and rolled to her back, but continued to regard him. "I mean that whatever you tell me is colored by your feelings and view of what has happened. You can't tell me how I felt or why."

He conceded her point with a nod. "What is this about?" he asked, still propped on his side.

"This is about us and you. This is about you thinking that my lack of memories is a cure-all for what ails our marriage and that being intimate isn't a big step for me."

"I think no such thi―"

"Is that so? Then why are you pressuring me for intimacies?"

He jumped from the bed. Still naked. "I'm not."

She kept her gaze glued to his face although her heart now pounded. "No? Did you not flirt with me all evening? Did you not come to bed _without_ your nightclothes on? Did you not offer me an alternative to actual lovemaking? Some other pleasure that I don't remember not liking, much less even trying?"

"I would never force you, Marian," he spat, now affronted, resting hands on hips. "Now you are acting lik--"

"Don't say it," she warned, ignoring the bounce of his manhood she could see from the corner of her eye. "I am not acting like before. I have the feeling that before the accident, we didn't fight or argue or even have a discussion. I was, was...passive."

"Just the way a wife should be," he snapped.

She sat up, a rush of anger warming her. "Beg pardon?" _Did he just say what she thought he just said?_

"Wives should be obedient."

"So you're ordering me to have relations with you, then?"

His eyes widened and he looked at her. "God, no, Marian. Of course not."

She heard the surprise and disbelief in his voice. No, he wouldn't force her. She knew that. "Then what _did_ you mean?"

"Nothing. I meant nothing. I am upset and spoke without thinking." He turned around and took a few steps and raked a hand through his hair.

How she wished he wore clothes. His nakedness was distracting and confusing—she felt both anxious and a bit fluttery inside.

"_You_ are upset? What is there for you to be upset about?" Her eyes locked onto the birthmark on his right buttock just below his waistline. She studied it, wondering what it wa—

He whirled back to face her.

She jerked her gaze back to his.

His eyes sparked with intensity, and his voice, when he spoke, crackled with frustration. "I have not made love with my wife in months. _She_ cannot even remember ever having relations with me and is now acting like a _missish_ virgin."

"In my mind, I _am_ a missish virgin. And I am not making it up to avoid intimacy."

"I never said you were."

"Yes, you did!"

"What? When?" He looked surprised again. Not only at her words, but as if his Marian didn't stand up to him, or hadn't in a while. Surely, her other self had been a spirited, happy woman and unafraid of challenging him. At least, at some point. Her two Robins were very similar in temperament, so it wasn't such a stretch to think that her two selves would be also.

"What do you think started this whole argument? I merely said I was nervous—I didn't even say no—and then you asked if I was going to use my memory loss as an excuse. And here we are."

"So you do have some memory?"

"Your attitude is not easily forgotten."

"Fine," he said and headed toward the dressing chamber.

"Fine, what? What does that even mean?"

"It, it...it means nothing. It is just an expression." He disappeared through the doorway

"An expression of what?" she called after him.

"Of nothing! Of frustration. Of exasperation. Of whatever." He reappeared wearing leggings and a dressing gown. "I am going downstairs."

"Why?"

"To think, Marian." With that, he disappeared in the hall, pulling the door shut behind him.

She collapsed to the bed, sorrow and frustration now filling her. Tears prickled her eyes.

She did not want to fight with him. She was not trying to avoid relations. But he overwhelmed her senses, made her feel out of control. And what if she never wanted to leave this life that was not really hers? What if she gave in to him and then returned to her own life no longer innocent? How would she explain it to her Robin? Would he believe her if she told him the truth? It was a far-fetched notion and one she would not believe herself except that she was the one experiencing it.

Granted, she might be stuck here forever. In which case, her _memories_ would never return, and she would have to live in this alternate version of her life forever—live a normal life with this Robin and their daughters. A normal life that included lovemaking.

Swiping the tears from her cheeks, Marian sighed. What could she do to get herself back to her life? She felt helpless and alone. And where was the Marian who really belonged here? She hadn't given the other woman much thought. They hadn't just traded places, if her experience from this morning meant anything. Was there yet another alternate life?

Marian's head whirled and hurt thinking on it. It was confusing. She must concentrate on herself, here in this world for the moment. Search for some way to get back to her own life. And figure out how she was going to deal with this Robin.

Did she go downstairs and try to talk with him? What would she say? What _could_ she say right now to fix things? Making love would not solve the issue, would it? She shook her head. No. Not yet, at any rate.

But she did not want him to stew. Did not want grievances between them. Her father—in her real life—had often said that one should never let the sun set on one's anger. In this case, she supposed she should not allow the sun to rise on their quarrel.

After grabbing her own dressing gown, she hurried from their bed chamber and moved quietly down the stairs. She scanned the great room as she descended, but did not see him. The door to the small room he used to administer the estates from stood slightly ajar and orange light flickered within.

"Robin, where are you?" she called from the other room."Robin?"

"I am here, Marian," he called back, suppressing a sigh. He did not want to deal with her right now, but was both surprised and pleased by her willingness to come after him. This was the Marian he'd fallen in love with, the Marian he liked being married to. And he missed her.

The door creaked open and he looked at her, a pale apparition in the darkness beyond this room.

Stepping into the room, she leaned against the wall next to the door. "I did not mean to upset you. For that I am sorry," she said. "I can only offer restful sleep in the comfort of your own bed, but it would please me if you returned to it."

Tossing the soiled cloth he held into the flames, he shook his head and laughed. A not entirely happy sound, even to himself. "Restful? My sleep would be anything but. I accept your apology and offer my own, but I cannot share a bed with you this night, my lady wife."

"What? Why not?" she asked, distressed.

"Your boldness, your prudence, your honesty are quite alluring. Not to mention your beauty. I fear I would lie awake for wanting that which you just told me I shall not have. Thank you, but I will find what rest I can down here." Which would be little enough.

"Robin...please." It was a mere whisper and fraught with fear and pleading.

He hated himself for upsetting her and he was beside her in a few steps, lightly gripping her upper arms. "Marian, I am not upset with you, I _swear_ it." He searched her gaze. "But you must understand, it would be agony to lie beside you without touching you. You know I would never force you, but the temptation would be too much..."

"We could...we could snuggle..."

"It would not be nearly enough."

"I..." Her eyes brimmed with tears. "Rob—"

He captured her mouth in a heated kiss and then set her away from him. "Now, please...I beg you...go to bed."

They were both tired and overwrought. She'd made herself perfectly clear and anything else said or done would be regretted on the morrow.

With a nod, she fled, and he returned to the hard chair. But she would not rest well either. He was sorry for that, but there was no help for it.

~*~

Marian awakened with a sense of anxiety. She looked for Robin, but the empty place next her brought it all flooding back. The brightness beyond the shutters meant she'd overslept. Drat.

She dressed quickly and went to care for Claire. With a heavy heart and dread settling in her stomach like a rock, she led Clair downstairs.

"Where is Da da da?" she asked as Marian lifted her to her seat at the table.

Marian certainly wanted to know that herself.

To be continued...


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood, Robin, Marain, et al. I have earned nothing from this endeavor but the joy that comes from the writing and the possibility of some nice feedback.

~*~*~

**Marian: Through the Looking Glass, Chapter Eleven**

Thornton followed Leah, the serving girl, into the room and said, "He is gone to Clun and Chilwell for the day, young mistress." He turned to Marian with a hint of a smile and a slight bow, handing her a pink rose barely opening its petals. "He left this for you, milady, and said he'd be home shortly after mid-day."

Relief flooded her and tears filled her eyes. The soft, sweet scent of the bloom drifted to her; she closed her eyes and buried her nose in it, inhaling the delicate fragrance.

_Oh, thank goodness...._ Even though he'd said he wasn't upset with her, she couldn't help but fear that he really was.

She squeezed her eyes shut against the urge to weep.

"Ma ma ma, are you sad?" Claire's voice was curious.

A moment later, Marian felt a tugging on her arm. She blinked back the moisture that clouded her vision and smiled at the little girl. She lifted Claire to her lap and shook her head. "No, Claire, I am not sad. Your father has left me this rose and has made me very happy."

"But you are crying." Claire wiped Marian's cheeks with the flat of her small hands, but turned a confused expression to Marian.

Marian chuckled and grabbed Claire's wrists gently. Pressing the girl's fingers to her mouth, Marian kissed them. "Sometimes, people—ladies—cry when they are happy, too."

"Can I cry when I am happy?"

Marian laughed at that. "If you feel the need to, then you can."

After breakfast, Marian worked with Claire on her lessons. She was quite smart and Marian felt a swell of pride. She hadn't realized that such young children could learn so much so quickly. And when she got back to her own life, she would remember it for her own children.

An idea struck her. "Claire would you like to learn your letters?"

Claire looked at her with bright blue eyes, but said firmly, "No."

"Why not?"

She shrugged and played with the large buttons on her own dress. "Letters are too hard."

"Have you written your letters before?"

Claire shook her head.

"Why do you say they're too hard?"

"Because you wrote your letters before, and you always cried."

Marian nearly fell from her chair. Her other self had written something that made her cry. Were they letters that she sent to someone? Her father, perhaps? Or Jane?

Marian shook her head. No, not Jane. She had been too untroubled during her visit. So her other self had writing instruments and parchment somewhere. Perhaps an unfinished letter, too. Marian needed to look though her things.

"All right; no writing today. But soon. It is very important to be able to read and write your name. Let's work on counting. Shall we find something to count?"

"Let's count horses," Claire exclaimed, sliding from Marian's lap.

Marian laughed. "There are not so many of them, my sweet. I think, perhaps, you can already count that high. Maybe we should try sums, then?" She rose and held a hand out. "Let us go to the stables and see the horses."

An hour later, they'd counted horses, horse legs, goats, pigs, and chickens. Then they'd gathered up some wild flowers and counted those as well. Marian wove them into a wreath and placed it upon Claire's head. "You are my princess..." She swept the little girl into her arms and hugged her close. "Now, shall we go see how Ellie fares this morning?"

"I will show her my crown," Claire said, struggling to get back down.

"Yes, well, she might try to eat your crown, so don't get too close," Marian said, releasing the girl and smiling. She was so much like Robin.

Hand in hand, they walked across the small courtyard to the house. Marian was eager to start tearing the house apart looking for anything that might give her a clue about her counterpart. Of course, if she had been sending letters to someone, then there would be little to provide clues. And if she was sending letters, to whom was she sending them?

_Perhaps there were return letters!_ Marian's breath stopped as did her steps. Surely, not another man?

Shaking her head, she dismissed that thought straight away. That couldn't—wouldn't—be it. She knew that Robin's real Marian loved him. And nothing could make her believe that any version of herself would betray her marriage vows.

"Come, Ma ma ma." Claire tugged on her hand. "Let's see Ellie."

Marian blinked and focused on the girl. "Of course, Claire."

Several hours later, both the girls were down for their nap. Marian had visited with Thornton and Cook about the household and the week's meals, and now she could go looking. She felt like a snoop even though only she knew they weren't really her own things she was looking through and for.

The fire was out in the study, and a small, high window let in the afternoon light. She glanced around the quiet room and remembered the events of the night before. Heat bloomed on her cheeks, and an image of Robin wavered in front of her.

But she shook those thoughts away. She finally had some sort of clue to something that could help her figure out the mystery of Robin's real Marian. And, while she was sorely tempted to resign herself to this version of her life, she wasn't quite ready to give up hope that she might return to her own.

A large table with piles of papers sat in the corner. She hurried to it and gently riffled through the documents. They all pertained to the estates and, when she was done, she'd found nothing regarding her other self's letter writing activities.

Settling her hands on her hips, she looked about again. So, if not here, then where might a lady keep such items? _Somewhere in the bedchamber. _That actually made more sense, and Marian hurried up the stairs.

She looked under the bed, but found nothing but a few stray clumps of dust and hair. None of the larger chests in the main room yielded anything but blankets and bed linens.

The dressing chamber was larger than it first appeared as chests and travel bags and her portmanteau were all stored and stacked in the narrow space between the slant of the roof and the bed chamber wall.

They must be in one of the cases or chests. They had to be. She studied the jumble of cases and travel trunks and tried to memorize the way they'd all been placed and arranged. It probably didn't matter, but just in case.

Marian pulled items, one by one, from their storage place and looked inside them. By the time she'd finished, she was sneezing from the dust she'd kicked up, and her gown was soiled and her hair a tangle.

She looked about the mess she'd created and sighed. It figured. Finding something stashed in here would have been a bit too easy. _Drat_. Where in heaven's name would she keep her writing things? Claire had seen her mother writing—and crying—so it couldn't be too much of a secret.

Perhaps, Claire knew. But she was napping at the moment, and Robin would return soon. With a sigh, she replaced everything and then changed her gown and brushed out her hair, but left it down. Robin seemed to prefer it that way.

Peeking in on the ladies, Marian found Mary playing quietly with Ellie while Claire and Thomas still slept. She tiptoed in and reached for the youngest Locksley. The baby girl grinned and wiggled when Marian came into sight; she cooed and waved her arms with seeming delight as Marian picked her up. _Similar to Robin's response when he'd first begun courting her before he'd gone off to the Crusades_. Marian smiled at the memory.

"I'll take her for a bit," Marian whispered to Mary.

Robin kicked his mount to a canter and left Much at the bend of the road. Robin couldn't wait to see Marian; to apologize for leaving this morning without a word. Hopefully, she'd been given the rose.

He reined Shade to halt and slid to the ground, leaving him for Much to round up and care for, and hurried to the manor. He wanted to see his wife. She'd been upset last night and he hated having to send her away. He'd wanted her so badly and sharing a room, much less a bed, would have been pure torture.

But he did not wish for her to fret that he was angry. Frustrated and scared of his own actions, yes. Angry with her, no.

He hoped the bloom had conveyed his apologies and love. Robin entered the great room and looked about for Marian, but did not see her.

"Afternoon, milord," said Thornton. "Lady Marian is out in the rear yard with the baby."

Robin grinned at the steward and headed toward the door. He stopped up short as he stepped outside, and his breath completely left him.

Marian lay on her side on a small blanket with her dark brown hair spilling free and her shoes kicked off. Her light blue gown—the one that made her eyes even bluer—had ridden up, revealing pretty white feet and shapely calves.

Ellie lay beside her, pale feet waving in the air, while Marian held one tiny hand. Marian's sweet voice and Ellie's happy gurgling floated on the afternoon breeze. They rested in the dappled shade of a young tree, the sun filtering softly through the greenery, spotting them with bright golden light.

Robin tiptoed toward them, drinking in the sight of them. God, they were beautiful. And how he desired his wife. More than ever. Even after four winters of marriage, two beautiful daughters, and despite all the distress of the last four or five months.

This new Marian delighted and intrigued him, challenged him and baffled him—like herself when they were courting and shortly following their vows, but somehow different. More beautiful, alluring. A bit bolder. More confident and mature.

_Except in the bedchamber._ He didn't really understand her fear of lovemaking. They were married and had made love hundreds of times, even if she couldn't remember. But he was tired of taking matters into his own hands. He wanted to bed his wife and soon. And if that meant wooing her with pretty words and flowers and some additional courting, well, then, that is what he would do.

He was almost upon them when Ellie caught sight of him. Both her eyes and her smile widened as she turned her head in his direction and she let out an excited coo. Robin's insides melted.

Marian rolled backwards and inhaled sharply when she saw him, but her startled expression transformed instantly into pleasure. Her eyes lit up and a shy smile broke across her face.

His body stirred at the sight of her there below him, shiny dark hair, full breasts, and well-rounded form. Even if she didn't realize it, her eyes were warm, welcoming, and inviting. And he very much wanted in. Wanted to feel her satiny skin slide across his and sink into her lush body.

He mentally shook away those thoughts. Now was not the time. And certainly not the place, although the thought of making love in the silver light of the moon crossed his mind.

He groaned inwardly and forced himself to put those thoughts aside. He was acting like a randy young lad just discovering the maids.

He flashed her a loving smile—he hoped—and dropped to his hands and knees. Closing the distance between them, he pressed light kisses to her face and lingered on her lips. "Hello, gorgeous," he whispered.

"Robin..." she said, her voice and eyes soft.

"Marian..." he echoed. Love for her filled him until he thought he might burst.

Their gazes held for a time until Ellie made a soft grunt.

Robin glanced over at his daughter. She'd rolled to her side and grabbed a hold of his arm and was trying to tug the fabric of his sleeve to her mouth. He chuckled, pulling her gaze back to his. "And hello to you, too, beautiful."

A gummy drooly smile appeared and Ellie wiggled in response.

With a last kiss to Marian's lips, Robin shifted his weight and position and settled on the blanket on the other side of their daughter. He scooped her up and rolled to his back, lifting Ellie above him.

Bouncing a bit in the maneuver, she let out a single deep laugh.

Robin laughed again, too. Then he rolled her slightly side-to-side before lowering her face to his, placing a noisy kiss on her cheek, and then raising her back above him.

She let out a happy hiccup sound, her hands now fisted together and in her mouth. Drool dribbled onto Robin's tunic and he made a face.

Marian laughed at the funny face Robin made. The active role and actual delight he took with the girls was unusual, but so sweet and wonderful. She was a pile of mush in the face of such love and interest.

And the look in his eye for her had sent ripples of sexual awareness through her, as well. Something was different, though. She'd seen the want in his eyes, felt his desire like a soft breeze. But the urgency of the last few days was gone. Replaced by...well, she could not name it, but she had a sneaking suspicion it was going to be her downfall.

And watching Robin with Ellie, she wasn't entirely sure she cared anymore.

**To be continued...**


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood, Robin, Marian, et al. I have earned nothing but the joy that comes from the writing and the possibility of a nice comment or two.

~*~*~

**Marian: Through the Looking Glass, Chapter Twelve**

The evening passed easily as Robin played with the girls while Marian sat and embroidered. However, she spent more time watching Robin roll around on the floor being silly than she did stitching anything, the smile never leaving her face.

It was quite a different mood than the previous evenings, and Marian did not know what to make of it. She felt lighter and calmer and jolly. She knew not what bedtime held, but refused to borrow trouble.

Eventually, Ellie began to fuss and Robin stood then and picked her up. "Will you walk Ellie to Mary's cottage with me?" he asked Marian, a single brow arcing in question. "'Tis a pleasant evening for a walk."

Marian nodded and rose, pleasure welling within her. "Leah?" she called to the housemaid.

A moment later, Leah appeared from the kitchen. "Yes, mum?"

"Robin and I are taking Ellie to Mary's—please see to Claire's bath."

"Yes, mum." Leah curtseyed. "Come along, Mistress Claire."

Claire looked from Robin to Marian. "I want to walk, too!" she said with a stomp of a foot.

Marian and Robin exchanged a glance and Marian indicated with a tilt of her head for Robin to handle it.

"I'm sorry, my love, but it—"

"I am not my love, I am Claire, and I do not want a bath. I want to walk with you and Ma ma ma." She stomped again.

Marian turned away to keep from laughing at the surprise on Robin's face. That and the fact that Claire was so much her father's daughter.

"Claire!" he said, loudly. "You will not speak like that to me. You will do as your mother instructed or I shall spank you."

Ellie burst into full-fledged tears.

Robin's gaze flew first to Ellie then to Marian, a stricken expression on his face.

Marian smiled in sympathy and shook her head before nodding toward Claire. She took Ellie from Robin, and patted and rubbed Ellie's back in an attempt to soothe her.

Claire's eyes widened and tears filled them even as her bottom lip pushed forward. "I-I want to g-go," she said again, although without the demand.

Marian saw him falter and she felt for him. She knew how much her Robin hated it when he was the cause of her tears. _Da da da_ Robin seemed to be similarly affected. Marian imagined it was much worse to be the cause of a child's tears than those of a grown woman.

Robin crouched before Claire and wiped the tears from her cheeks. "I know you do, but Ma ma ma wants you to have your bath right now." He leaned in close and talked softly into Claire's ear for a moment, and then pulled back and looked at her. "Now, then. Ma ma ma and I will come tuck you in when we return, all right?"

Still shiny-eyed, she nodded and then ran and hugged Marian's legs, burying her face in the fabric of Marian's gown.

Marian reached down and rubbed the back of Claire's head. "We won't be long, Claire, but we must go."

Ellie bawled now, and only a breast was going to calm her.

Claire released Marian and followed Leah to the kitchen.

Marian regretted that she wasn't capable of comforting the child in that way. Envy had snuck up on her several times when she'd watched Mary nurse Ellie or Thomas.

What did it feel like...? To feel a small mouth tugging on her nipple, gaining sustenance and comfort and love. Marian sighed inwardly. If she ever got back to her own Robin, perhaps she'd pursue motherhood.

Robin took Ellie from Marian and then took Marian's hand. "Come, my love, let us go."

They hurried down the lane toward the small cluster of cottages that made up Locksley's little village. Mary was waiting at the gate when they arrived with their sobbing bundle of joy.

"Com'ere, sweeting," Mary said, holding her arms out.

"I'm so sorry," Marian said as Robin handed Ellie over. "She became startled and that set her off."

Mary smiled. "No worries...go on then. We'll see you in the morning." She began unbuttoning her gown and turned away, gently shushing Ellie and maneuvering her into position.

"Good night, Mary. And thank you," called Robin softly as he tugged Marian back in the direction of the manor. The night sounds re-emerged—the chirp of the crickets and the faint rustling of the leaves in the trees along the lane.

The western sky wasn't completely dark, yet, and the moon hung low on the southern horizon. The trees were large gray shadows to the east as they walked, the air mild with a faint breeze.

Robin's hand held hers tightly, and, this time, she sighed with happiness. He stopped and turned to her, his hands coming to rest on her hips. The heat of them permeated her gown, sending a pleasurable chill through her.

_What would those hands feel like on other parts of her?_

Heat rushed up her cheeks. What was she thinking? Suddenly embarrassed and shy, she looked down, through the space that remained between them, at the ground.

"Marian..." He tilted her face up with a finger to her chin.

She searched his eyes, although it was really too dark to see his expression.

He bent his head and kissed her, his lips feather soft.

Her eyes fell shut, and the feel of his mouth so gentle upon hers sent a flutter of want through her. She leaned into the kiss and felt him smile against her mouth even as he parted his lips and traced hers with his tongue.

She inhaled in surprise and he slipped his tongue into her mouth.

The taste of him, the feel of him, the heat of him surrounded her and sent her senses reeling. Her hands slid up his chest and around his neck, tangling in the soft hairs on his nape.

He remained passive and allowed her to control the kiss. The only indication that he was affected by their connection was a tightening of his fingers on her flesh.

Her desire grew, want pooling in her womanhood. He held fast to her hips, not allowing her to close the gap between them, as she attempted to do.

She grunted faintly in frustration, but realized it was probably for the best—she still might return to her own life, and she just couldn't go back without her innocence. She ended the kiss with a regret-filled sigh.

Robin didn't object. "Come…" he said softly and a bit breathless. "We must see to Claire, now."

She nodded, but couldn't say much, her heart still beating frantically with excitement and longing.

They turned toward the house, and Robin slipped an arm around her shoulder. She slid her arm around his waist, and they ambled back toward the manor.

"What did you say to Claire?" Marian asked, gaining some semblance of control over her whirling emotions and thoughts. It was so difficult when he was near.

Robin chuckled. "I told her that you had been a naughty girl and that you needed a spanking, too."

"_What?_" Marian whipped her head up to look at him. "You did not."

Robin's laugh echoed through the courtyard as they approached the front door. He met her gaze, the mirth fading. "No. I didn't…" He studied her, searched her gaze, probed her heart and soul. Then his eyes slammed shut as he took her mouth captive in another heated kiss that turned her knees soft.

A faint mewling escaped her and Robin pulled away.

She felt bereft and yet filled with longing at the same time.

Robin rested his forehead against hers and said roughly, "Claire is waiting." He took her by the hand and led her inside and up the stairs.

Her heart soared and then plummeted. She did not want to send him seeking relief by himself, but, as affected as she was by their kisses, she still couldn't risk losing her maidenhood.

"Robin, I'm sorry—" Her voice broke on the last word.

Robin's step faltered at the top of the steps at her words. Outside the girls' bedchamber door, he stopped and turned to her. "You have done nothing to be sorry for. I started it. I am fine. You are fine. _We_ are fine. I promise."

Releasing a small breath, she smiled and nodded. "All right."

He pushed into the ladies' chamber.

Leah sat in the chair normally occupied by Mary, and Claire was asleep in her bed.

"Thank you, Leah, you can go now," Robin said quietly as he and Marian crossed to the bed.

Leah nodded and hurried from the room.

They took turns leaning down to kiss their daughter goodnight. Love for this little girl, so like her father—and love for Robin—filled Marian. This life was good and right and close to perfect.

At this very moment, she just couldn't fathom why the Marian who truly belonged here had put Robin and her daughters through all the heartbreak. Especially Robin. He was affectionate, involved with the girls, he respected her intelligence, esteemed women in general, unlike many other noblemen, and he loved her so dearly. What more could a wife and mother ask of her husband?

Back out on the landing, Robin stopped. "I have some notes to make in the ledgers for Clun and Chillwell. You go ahead to bed. I'll be along in a bit."

Worry filled her again and she opened her mouth to speak.

He must have read her anxiety as he placed a finger to her lips. "I said we are fine, and I meant it. I put off my work to play with the girls after the evening meal. I need to get it done. I won't be long, I promise."

He looked and sounded sincere.

She nodded and released her anxiety. "Very well."

With a soft kiss to her cheek, Robin turned and went downstairs.

Marian headed for their bed chamber both relieved and antsy. She knew he'd been honest. But their interactions had raised her awareness of him to a new level and she was feeling decidedly interested in the workings of the marriage bed.

But how could she be sure she wasn't going to end up back in her own world tomorrow or the next day or the next. And if she returned without her innocence, how was she going to explain it?

**To be continued...**


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood, Robin, Marian, Much, et al; I have earned nothing but the pleasure that comes from the writing and the possibility of a nice comment or two.

~*~*~

**Marian: Through the Looking Glass, Chapter Thirteen**

Robin sat, holding Marian's hand, watching her chest rise and fall with each breath she took. Strong, healthy breaths, to be sure, but when was she going to wake up? Every day that passed made him worry more that she would never wake up. And if she never woke up, how was he going to live with himself? Or without her?

How would others—_why_ would others—ever trust him again if he was the cause of the death of the woman he loved. No matter that everyone claimed it was an accident. And Robin understood that. But if something happened to her while she was playing a part in one of his plans, accident or not, he would never forgive himself.

Swallowing back his fear, he lifted her hand and kissed it. "Marian, please wake up. I would do anything to see your beautiful eyes looking at me—even in anger. You _must_ wake up."

When her eyes did not immediately pop open, he sighed, kissed her hand again and then her mouth, and then slid off the bed and wandered to the window. Edward gave Robin a report each night when he came to sit with her. Edward felt she improved slowly but steadily as the days passed. And maybe it was more apparent during the day, but when Robin arrived each night, she looked the same to him.

According to Edward, though, she ate easier and ate more. They'd also tried giving her thin porridge and thick broths, which she also ate as she would actually swallow now. She was a bit pale, but Robin had to admit that she really didn't look like she'd been unconscious for a sennight.

And Edward had said she talked during the day, usually mid-morning. Nothing he could understand except the name Claire. It was actually more mumbling and noises, but it was more than she'd been doing at the first, so there was reason for hope.

Robin just wished he would hear something. Maybe then he'd feel as Edward did, that she really was getting better. Matilda had assured them this morning that she was doing quite well, and Robin had taken some measure of comfort in that. Matilda would not lie to him.

Robin looked out the window toward Nottingham. He could see the top-most turrets above the tree line, but that was all. Sir Edward had ridden off to attend a Council of Nobles meeting, and Robin had agreed to stay with Marian until Edward returned.

Thankfully, the gang was pretty self-sufficient, and the sheriff seemed to be taking a break from his usual shenanigans, and so the gang was able to make deliveries throughout Robin's holdings without any trouble. The respite wouldn't last much longer, though. Of that, Robin was sure.

But for now, he'd take it. His mind was mostly filled with worry over Marian and he doubted he'd have been able to come up with any kind of plan. Not one that wouldn't put the rest of the gang at risk, anyhow.

Edward ascended the stairs into Nottingham Castle—his home for almost seven summers—wearing weariness like a mantle. It exuded an ominous feeling these days, and he avoided coming here unless absolutely necessary. Which was usually once a fortnight for these meetings that generally meant worse things to come for the peasant populous.

Edward sighed. He'd never had major issues when he was the sheriff. The villages all seemed to prosper well enough and all paid the taxes required of them without complaint or issue.

Perhaps when Marian awakened and was herself again, they would move to another shire. His brother Bertram was always after him to join them in Lincoln which was just across the River Trent and, _most importantly_, in Lincolnshire. But, he thought with mixed feelings, not so far that Robin and Marian couldn't see each other if that's really the way the wind blew. The idea of Marian marrying Robin was infinitely more palatable than her marrying Guy of Gisborne.

"Sir Edward!" Guy's frantic voice reverberated down the stone corridor.

Edward groaned inwardly as he slowed and turned around. Speak of the....

"Edward, are you looking for me? Is it Marian? She is worse! I will send for a physician—_guard!_"

"Sir Guy, no. That is unnecessary. Marian is fine. I swear it."

A guard arrived and stood at attention next to Sir Guy.

"Then why are you here?" Guy asked, regarding Edward suspiciously.

"It was my understanding there is a Council of Nobles meeting," Edward said. He didn't know if he should be grateful for Sir Guy's concern, but it seemed to have made the man a bit addle pated.

Guy deflated in disgusted relief. "Of course," he sneered and jerked his head to the guard. "You can go."

The guard nodded and scuttled back the way he came.

"How is Marian, then?" Guy asked, his voice now on the hard side. As if his weakness made him angry.

Edward nodded. "She is still unconscious, but doing better. She is eating more and actually swallowing better on her own now."

"Oh? That is good, then."

Edward saw the hope flare in the other man's eyes, but it quickly disappeared again. Edward did not want to encourage him in his suit of Marian, but dared not lie, either. "It is encouraging, but still there is no way to know."

"And who cares for Marian whilst you are away?" Guy asked. His tone suggested that he suspected Edward of leaving her unattended.

"I left her in Matilda's care," Edward replied. Although he knew she would not be there upon his return.

Guy rolled his eyes.

"I assure you that Matil—"

"She will do. I must go," Guy said abruptly and immediately turned and walked away.

Edward sighed again and continued on toward the Great Hall. Yes...once Marian was recovered, he would seriously consider moving to Lincoln.

A faint noise pulled Robin's attention from the view and back to Marian. She shifted in the bed and mumbled something. His heart constricted a bit as he moved from the window and settled on the bed. He took Marian's hand again and waited.

Regret snaked through him. He'd never really told her how much she meant to him. He thought she knew, hoped she knew. But how could she? He always hid his feelings or offered them up hidden inside a joke. It was hard for him to share his deepest feelings—to say what was in his heart. Even Much lamented about it.

But you never knew when something like this was going to happen. Robin would have to learn to open up a bit. Even when it hurt, even when it was hard. He realized that now.

Just when he was about to give up any sort of hope, Marian shook her head and burbled a short non-sensical sentence.

_She spoke!_

Somewhere in her mind, she was awake. Robin's heart tripped over itself and he breathed a sigh of relief, clutching her hand a bit tighter. "Marian, my love," he said, "Come back to me. To your father. We need you, Marian. If you can hear me...I...I love you...."

She turned toward him, although her eyes remained firmly shut, and said, "Where'sit?"

Robin's heart beat quickly now and he leaned toward her. "Where's what? What are you looking for?" He searched her face for any signs that she was waking up, jiggled her hand. "Marian, please, wake up." He watched and waited, but she became quiet and still once more.

They sat that way for a time, the daily household sounds muffled through the heavy door of her bedchamber. He hated this feeling of helplessness. He was a man of action and he could do nothing for her.

"No...no..." she said, softly now, sorrowfully, her head rolling back and forth.

His heart stopped for a moment. "What is, my love? I am here. You are fine." He stroked her hand and gently brushed her hair back from her forehead and she settled down. What was going on inside her? Where was she? But he felt somewhat better. He believed Edward now and Robin was glad he'd witnessed this. It gave him hope that she wasn't lost to them forever.

She was somewhere, he was sure of it. Now if he could just figure out how to bring her back to him.

~*~*~

Marian awoke the next morning to find herself wrapped up in Robin. His even breathing warmed her neck, his arm was draped across her middle, and he was spooned up behind her. His hardness pressed lightly into her bottom. But unlike the first morning, it felt good and right, and Marian smiled and covered Robin's hand with her own and enjoyed the closeness.

She'd missed him coming to bed the night before, so either she'd fallen asleep quickly or Robin had stayed downstairs longer than he anticipated. She didn't mind too much as she hadn't had to worry about making a decision.

"Good morning, lady wife," he said softly into her neck.

She shivered with pleasure. "My lord husband," she replied, rolling slightly backwards.

Robin shifted, giving her room to roll to her back. He leaned in and kissed her, a lingering kiss that sent tendrils of want swirling through her. Tunneling her fingers into the hairs on the back of his head, she pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. He cupped her breast, rubbing a thumb once across the bud. Arching into his hand, she moaned into his mouth.

He groaned in response.

She stilled, but didn't pull away or even flinch from his touch.

Was she ready to go forward? To give herself to him with no second thoughts and no regrets? Her body screamed yes, her heart murmured its assent, but her mind fought through the haze of longing and desire to remind her that if she proceeded, there was no going back.

_Yes!_

Robin broke the kiss.

_No...._

"Yes, Marian," he said gently.

Had she spoken? She blinked away the blur from her eyes to look into his. "Robin?"

"Much as I would love to spend the morning in your arms, you are not ready."

"But I am."

He smiled, a hint of hurt lingered behind the love in his eyes, and pressed one more kiss to her lips. "If you were, you would not have stopped."

"I was thinking," she insisted. "Weigh—"

He rolled away from her and left the bed as he said, "I don't want you to think. I want you to feel and to _know..._"

A cry of frustration and sorrow bubbled in her throat, tears pricked her eyes.

Robin disappeared into the dressing room and returned a moment later, fully dressed, to her side of the bed. He caressed her cheek with a soft swipe of his knuckles. "Do not fret, my love." He pressed yet another quick kiss to her mouth. "I will be at Knighton and here in Locksley this day."

With a nod and a half-smile he was gone, and Marian let the tears trickle from the corner of her eyes into her hair. She was ready. She was. She'd just needed to...to stop and think. And now she felt all hot and bothered.

_How do you think he feels?_

Drat it! She huffed and rolled over, staring out the window. He surely felt hot and bothered and frustrated, as well. Probably moreso than she if he'd been waiting months and months to bed her. _To make love with her_. The intimacy, the _love_ that invoked brought on more silent tears.

She lay there for a few more minutes until a random thought flashed through her mind.

The letters.

She only had a short time today to search the rest of the manor before Robin returned. She hurried from the bed and into the dressing room as well, dashing the moisture from her face.

After breaking her fast with Claire and then sending Claire back upstairs to play, Marian took a good look around the main room. The doors and windows stood open allowing fresh air and daily sounds to fill the room. Thornton and Cook had the morning off from right after breakfast until it was time to prepare the mid-day meal.

Marian was alone for all intents and purposes and no one was paying her any heed. Perfect. Now where could her writing things be stashed? Starting at the mantle, she looked on every shelf and for any possible hidden compartment. She made her way all the way around the room opening cupboards and searching trunks and chests. Nothing.

Glancing at the door to the study, she wondered if she missed something the other day and hurried inside. Giving it another quick once over, she shook her head.

_Where else? Think, Marian, think._

Her gaze roamed the manor, marking off each room as already checked or unlikely. Perhaps the ladies chamber, but she's have to wait until no one was in there. _Or you could just ask Claire.... No._ The kitchen was out, too. If her other self cried whilst writing these letters, she did it somewhere with more privacy.

The barn?

_Yes._

Something clicked inside Marian and an excitement filled her. That's where her writing utensils were. Either she wrote in the barn or rode out and penned them somewhere else.

The barn was shadowed and cool compared to the late-July heat that warmed the outdoors. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, but when they did she glanced around. Where, where, where might she hide her things. If she went somewhere else to write the letters, then they'd have to be—

"Do yer want yer horse, my lady?" asked a young groom with a slight bow.

She whirled around, her heart leaping to her throat in surprise. She pressed a hand to her chest as if to still her racing heart, but shook her head and took a calming breath. "No...thank you..." What was his name? "...Peter...but I am looking for my..."

"Yer bag, mum? It was on yer horse the day it came back wifout yer. I put it away, mum, in a safe place."

Her heart leapt and took off once more. "Oh, Peter, thank you, yes. I'd love my bag back."

"I'll get it, mum." He hurried off into the storage room.

Marian heard a bit of banging about as he must have hidden it.

Then Marian heard the pounding of hooves—two sets.

Her heart sank. Robin and Much were returned. That meant that even if there were any letters in that bag, she wouldn't be able to read them now.

She stepped to the door of the room into which the groom had disappeared. "Peter—my lord husband has returned," she called, trying to infuse nonchalance into her tone. "Please don't worry about my bag now. I'll get it another time."

"Yes, mum," he replied, his voice muffled.

She hurried into the courtyard just as Robin and Much pulled their mounts to halt and slid to the ground.

_Drat, drat, drat._ She was so close now. But at least she knew where to look. She plastered a smile on her face and flashed it at Robin.

"Robin..."

"Marian..." he replied evenly and controlled, his glance flicking from her to the barn and back. Creases appeared on his forehead. "What are you doing in the barn? Were you planning a ride?"


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood, Robin, Marian, et al; I have earned nothing but the pleasure that comes from the writing and the possibility of a nice comment or two.

~*~*~

**Marian: Through the Looking Glass, Chapter Fourteen**

Much disappeared into the barn with both mens' horses.

The hard edge of Robin's voice and the glint in his eyes made her uneasy, and the tension she'd encountered when she'd first woken up after the accident rolled off him. Something warned her to tread lightly.

A sudden burst of wind swirled around her and slight chill rippled through her. "N-no...I wanted to teach Claire her letters and I cannot find my writing things and have been looking for them off and on for several days."

"The _barn_?" he asked, but his voice and his gaze had lost their sharpness.

"I did not know where else to look. I have been through the manor."

He exhaled and nodded.

He held out his hand and she slid hers into it, releasing her own breath in relief. She wasn't sure what had caused such a reaction, but had a sneaking suspicion it had to do with his real Marian. Again she wondered what her other self had done to cause such unease and suspicion in him. She refrained from glancing back toward the barn. She was so close to finding out.

_Perhaps_.

There could be nothing except just her writing materials. And she'd be no worse off than she was now. But no closer, either, to figuring out what might have been going on.

They walked toward the manor. His thumb traced circles on the back of her hand making her heart skip a few beats, replacing the excitement of any possible letters with other pleasurable sensations.

As they approached the house, he said, "There is parchment and ink in the study. You are free to use whatever you need."

"Yes, of course, but I would still like to find my things."

"Of course." They entered the manor and he dropped her hand. She felt its loss.

The table was set for the mid-day meal and Leah entered from the kitchen a moment later, carrying a platter of breads and cheese. Cook followed with a platter of leftover pork from the previous evening's meal.

"Shall we fetch our daughters?" Robin asked.

Ellie joined them at table this day and ate a bit of pottage, which she seemed to enjoy. Claire picked at her food, however, and claimed an achy stomach. She took an extra long nap, but was herself upon awakening and Marian thought no more of it.

The remainder of the day passed in simple familial activities. And even the evening was quiet. The girls played at their feet until it was time for them to go to bed, and Claire went without argument, which Marian found a bit odd. Robin took Ellie to Mary's cottage while Marian tended to Claire.

Once the girls were settled, Robin brought his ledgers to the main room and worked there, sharing bits of village news as Marian actually worked on her embroidery. Marian felt little angst once their own bedtime was upon them.

In fact, Robin snuggled up behind her and was breathing deeply in minutes. Marian sighed and slid into the warm cocoon of pre-sleep herself, enjoying the normalcy of it all. Although after the inter-play between them the last few days, she wondered at the sudden lack. But she was too comfortable and pleased to give it much more thought. She would worry about it on the morrow—maybe—and allowed herself to drift off.

~*~

The next morning dawned bright and sunny. A lovely day for a picnic. Robin smiled and could not wait to execute the next step of his plan. The wooing seemed to be working and after the display the previous morning, he knew she was almost ready.

It had just about done him in to pull away and walk away, but he'd done it. And he thought it had achieved the right effect. But the whole effort of the game and holding back took a lot out of him, and, last night, he'd just needed a respite.

And, yesterday, when he'd arrived home to find her in the barn, he'd been on the verge of panic thinking the old Marian had reappeared. But she had just been in search of her things.

Another reason to step back. What if her memories returned? Then he'd be right back where he started with a taciturn wife and a strained household. But he would get answers. He would not allow their life to continue as it had. Could not.

But for now, all was well. He breathed another sigh of relief and rolled toward her. He wouldn't forbid her from riding if that's what she wanted to do, but each time she did so, he feared she'd never come back. He shook those thoughts away.

He kissed her shoulder. "Come, my love. Wake up...we must attend Mass today..."

She groaned softly and stretched. "Must we?" she asked, her voice thick with sleep.

"Aye. We are the nobles...all the villagers look to us for guidance and to set an example." He kissed her cheek and, once again, forced himself to roll away from her and get out of bed. She was so very tempting. Soon...very soon. "How would it look if we spent the morning making love instead of tending to our mortal souls?" But what he wouldn't give to do so.

He sighed as he went into the dressing chamber to don his robes. When he returned to the main chamber, he gasped and his body tightened accordingly.

She sat, her dark hair mussed and tumbled around her face. Her thin night rail did little to hid her womanly curves. He blue eyes were still soft with sleep and she smiled when she saw him.

"You are quite magnificent, my lord husband," she said softly; warmly; seriously.

As was she. The wooing was going to kill him. Attending Mass was going to kill him. The waiting was going to kill him. He tamped down his desire. Swallowing against the dryness in his throat, he said, "Thank you, my lady wife. Now you must get dressed. We shall leave in half an hour."

And he left the room lest he decide to throw his plan to the four winds. Instead, he looked in upon Claire, to find her sitting in Leah's lap playing with her dolly as Leah told her a story.

~*~

The carriage rolled to a stop in the courtyard, and Robin handed Marian down. "I have a surprise for you, my love, so if you would change into something a lot less formal. Mayhap that pretty white summer gown with the blue vines and small flowers all over it?"

She smiled, her eyes twinkling. "You like that one, do you?"

"Marian, it matters not what you wear, but yes. That one makes your eyes as blue as the sky and it pleases me."

Her cheeks pinkened at his words and she tilted her head in acknowledgment. "As you wish, my husband."

"I must check with Thornton and then I'll be along." He followed her inside.

"All right." She headed for the stairs.

Thornton emerged from the kitchens as Marian topped the stairs and disappeared.

"Is everything ready?" Robin asked, keeping his voice low.

"Yes, milord. The maids set everything up just a short time ago, and young James is keeping watch that no creatures come along and partake."

"Very good. Thank you, Thornton." Robin clapped the older man on the shoulder.

"My pleasure, Master Robin."

Robin hustled to the door. "Much!"

A moment later, his man servant peeked his head from the upper barn window, bits of straw sticking from the man's hair. "Yes, Master?"

"My horse, if you please, Much." Robin chuckled to himself. He didn't doubt Much was entertaining a fair maid this morning. Well, once Robin and Marian were on their merry way, Much was free for the rest of the afternoon as well.

"Of course." Much nodded and disappeared.

Several minutes later, Much emerged, his hair semi-tamed and no straw, with Robin's horse in tow. "Milord." He handed the reins to Robin.

"Thank you, Much. You have the rest of the day off. I shall see you bright and early tomorrow morning."

A wide smile graced Much's face, his blue eyes shone with excitement. "Thank you, Master." He nodded once. "You have a lovely afternoon, as well." He turned to go.

"Much...?"

He stopped and looked at Robin. "Yes, Master?"

"It's really none of my business, but I hope you've had a trip to Matilda's. I'd really hate to think there might be a sword-point wedding, if you know what I mean."

An unbecoming shade of pink flooded Much's face and his mouth open and closed several times although no words issued forth.

Robin chuckled and left Much standing there. "See you in the morning."

Marian emerged from the house just then. His heart stopped and then beat frantically in his chest and his breath caught for a moment. Mercy, she was gorgeous. He didn't know if he could wait much longer.

She'd released her hair from the tidy up-do she'd worn to Mass and it fell around her face in shiny dark waves. Her plump pink lips curved upwards. And she'd worn the dress. Her blue eyes sparkled like the sky on a crisp spring afternoon.

"Are you ready, my love?" he asked. "Your chariot awaits." He bowed and swept his arm in Shade's direction.

Marian nodded and couldn't help but smile. She mounted the horse and then Robin swung up behind her, leaving a bit of space between them.

"Would you like to take the reins or shall I?" Robin asked.

"Well, as I don't know our destination..." She held up the leather straps for him to take.

"Lovers Pond," he said softly into her ear.

He felt her shiver and then he settled his hands on her waist, smiling.

She snapped the reins lightly and nudged Shade into motion. They rocked with the sway of the horse as it walked along and Marian's bottom brushed against him with every second step. Sweet torture. He didn't know if he should close the gap between them so they'd move as one. He decided to endure—they were almost there anyhow. The plan was getting harder and harder to execute. Thanks be to heaven it was almost complete.

As they rounded the last bend, Marian gasped at the scene before them.

A large blanket was spread next to the pond and a lovely picnic lunch was laid out. James stood nearby, whistling a merry tune.

Pleasure washed over her. "Did you do this for me?"

She felt him nod behind her. "For us...." he said softly, then more loudly to the lad, "Thank you, James. You may return to the manor."

"Thank you, sir," James said and hurried back the way they'd just come.

Marian drew the horse to a standstill and waited as Robin dismounted. He held his arms up to her. She turned completely to face him and rested her arms along his and then slid from the horse's back.

He stood so close she slid down the front of him. He pulled her close and kissed her. She registered his hardened manhood, but he released her and turned toward the spread, but not before heat licked up her entire body. _Oh, my...._

"Come let us eat," he said. "I had cook pack all your favorites."

"What's this about?" she asked, joining him on the blanket. She tucked her hair behind her ears and looked at him with a smile.

He'd gone to some trouble to plan this. And he was desirous of her. She had no doubt the two were somehow linked. That set her heart to beating. But surely he did not expect to make love out in here in the open. Much as she wanted to be with him...she wouldn't do that.

He handed her a hunk of fresh bread with a slice of her favorite cheese and shrugged. "It is about us recapturing the joy of our relationship. You were so unhappy, Marian. I want you to be happy. I want to be happy again."

Love filled her as tears prickled her eyes. She blinked them back. "I _am_ happy. You are a good husband and father. The girls—our daughters—are beautiful and perfect."

A large loose cloud passed in front of the sun, leaving them in a thin shade.

He looked at her, shadows now in his eyes. "Less than a fortnight ago, you did not feel that way. You would not talk to me...would not let me in and it hurt. I do not know why you were so disconsolate. If it was me...what did I do to make you so?"

Her heart constricted in hurt and regret. Tears rolled down her face. "I don't think it was you..." she said, her voice catching. She shook her head. "It wasn't you."

"Then why...why did you push me away?" He cupped her face, brushing away the tears.

She wished she knew. "I don't know the answer to that right now. I may never know..." _But if there were letters....perhaps I would._

He nodded and hung his head.

The cloud had finally been pushed along by the wind and they were bathed in warmth and light once more.

"What happened to the joy?" she asked, drawing his gaze. "Let us eat and delight in the sunshine and in each other, all right? We cannot know what tomorrow will bring, so let's not borrow trouble."

"Yes.... You are right." He shook his head as if to shake away his thoughts. "I hope to make new memories so that if the old ones return, you will know that things can be good again...that I love you with all that I am."

"I do know it...and I love you, too." She rested a hand on his arm. He looked up and she pressed a kiss to his mouth.

His breath whooshed from his body and he nodded.

Marian took a drink from the wine skin and passed it to Robin. Then she divided the rest of the bread and the cheese and handed him a roast chicken leg and an apple. She plucked a grape from the cluster and popped it into her mouth. "This is lovely, Robin, thank you."

Once they'd eaten and put the remains of the mean back into the large basket, Robin reclined against the log.

She scooted over and snuggled into his side, listening to his heart beat steadily beneath her ear. Such a soothing sound and a reminder that this Robin, at least, appeared to be steady and true.

"I've missed this, Marian. I have missed you." His arm tightened around her, pressing her closer as he kissed the top of her head.

"I'm so sorry..." she whispered, looking up at him. "If I could change what has happened, I would..."

"I know."

His gaze bore into hers, searching. For what she did not know.

She knew the moment he'd found it, though. His eyes softened and his head tilted ever so slightly. And she knew he was going to kiss her. One of those kisses that stopped your heart and changed your world forever.

His eyes slid shut as he closed the distance between them. Hers did, too, at the first touch of his mouth upon hers. His lips were parted and there was no tentativeness. He took possession of her mouth in an all-consuming kiss.

She clung to him, reveling in the feel of him against her, one hand on the curve on her hip, fingers gripping her flesh. The other cupped her head, fingers tangled in her hair, holding her tightly to him.

Her defenses and her resolve cracked under the intensity of the kiss—slow, thorough, filled with love and a passion Marian felt him holding back.

Her future was still uncertain, and despite anything she might find out, she just didn't know if she'd ever return to her own life. The sudden longing to just live this life and love this man, _this_ Robin, burned within her. She slid a hand up his chest and into the hair on his nape, opened her mouth wider and pressed closer.

He growled into her mouth and closed a hand over her breast. Need shot from her breast to her toes and the top of her head and then settled in her womanhood. A pressure that ached to be relieved. She mewled.

With strength she didn't realize he possessed, he gripped her arms and dragged her into a straddling position over his lap, the skirt of her gown now riding up around her waist and upper thighs. He cupped her bottom and pulled her snug against him. His manhood pressed into her woman's place through her thin linen under wrapping. She gasped, and a rush of intense desire rushed through her. "You're..." She looked down into his eyes, now churning like the River Trent.

"Yes...mercy, I want you," he said, nudging into her.

"Robin, we mustn't...." Marian said softly, breathy, and despite the flames of love and want that licked at her.

Robin's eyes darkened, his voice roughened. "Why musn't we? There is no one around to see us."

"You don't know that."

"I _do_ know that."

He kissed her again and her worries and her resistance crumbled. She had no defense against him any longer. He overwhelmed her senses and made her feel beautiful and loved and wanted. His hands roamed her back, sending shivers through her; up her arms, fingers tunneling through her hair; tilting her head to deepen their kiss.

Eventually, he ended the kiss and rested his forehead against hers and settled his hands on her hips, thumbs circling her hip bone. Swirls of pleasure radiated from that spot and she hummed in response. His hands slid up, following the inward curve of her waist and then the flare of her ribs and the swell of her breasts, brushing the undersides with his thumbs.

She hissed in pleasure and arched into his hand. He cupped both breasts then, and need throbbed through her, pulsing where they touched so intimately. Feeling suddenly languid, she allowed her head to loll backwards, increasing the pressure of her body against his.

He squeezed and kneaded her breasts...such exquisite sensations rolled through her. She wanted to feel his hands on her skin; the weight of his body on hers; the feel of his body buried inside her. Wanted to experience what it was to truly be man and wife. She no longer cared that they were outside. The sun shone down upon them like the golden light it was, bathing them in warmth and approval—as if the Good Lord Himself was smiling upon their impending union.

She tugged at Robin's tunic, anxious to touch him, to see him.

"_Master! My lady!"_

Marian and Robin broke apart in surprise. They looked toward Much who had just yanked his horse to a halt.

"Oi...oh...my apologies..." Much stammered, turning red, and then circling his horse to face away from them.

Her heart pounded in her chest and she took great gasps of air as she scrambled off Robin's lap and pushed her skirts back down to cover her legs. _Oh, my goodness, oh, my goodness, oh, my goodness..._ Her face burned with embarrassment. How was she ever going to face Much again?

"Wh-what is it, Much?" Robin called, rising and adjusting himself. He held out a hand to her and pulled her to her feet, pressing a quick kiss to her mouth.

"It is Mistress Claire—she is ill," Much called over his shoulder. "She is puking—you must come; she is calling for Lady Marian."

Marian's heart jumped to her throat in fear and she forgot all about her discomfiture. "Robin—"

Robin sprinted to Shade and tugged him back to Marian. He boosted her into the saddle and swung up behind her. Grabbing up the reins he kicked the horse to a canter and raced back to the manor.

**To be continued…**


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood, Robin, Marian, et al; I have earned nothing but the joy that comes from the writing and the possibility of a nice comment or two.

~*~*~

**Marian: Through the Looking Glass, Chapter 15**

A few minutes later, Robin tugged the horse to halt in a cloud of dust. He slid off the horse, then caught Marian as she dismounted into his arms. They hurried into the manor and rushed up the stairs, Marian's heart racing. _Her poor baby puking while she and Robin had been…._ She shook her head. She wouldn't be sorry. _Couldn't_ be sorry. Life continued. And she had to live it no matter what version of her life she happened to be in.

She burst into the ladies chamber to find Claire sitting on the floor with a rather large wooden bucket between her legs. Her dark hair was damp and clung to her head, her skin pale. The bucket was almost tall as Claire was in her current sitting position. Her skinny arms were crossed and rested along the thick edge and her head rested on her arms. Leah sat on the floor next to her with a basin of water and a cloth.

"Has someone gone for Matilda?" Marian asked, dropping to the floor next to Claire. "Oh, precious, Ma ma ma is here."

Claire sat up and smiled wanly, but a small spark lit her eyes. "Ma ma ma..."

"We sent James after Matilda, mum," said Leah as she scooted out of the way.

Marian took her place. Resting her back against the bed rail, she pulled Claire into her lap and cradled her close. "Oh, Claire...I'm sorry you feel so poorly."

"I'm better now. All the yucky stuff is in there." She pointed to the bucket.

Marian wrinkled her nose at the whiff of sour stomach contents that drifted her way. "Can we get a clean bucket please?" she asked Leah.

"Yes, mum." Leah bobbed half-curtsy and disappeared.

Marian rocked slightly side to side. She reached for the cloth floating in the basin on the floor next to her and squeezed out the water with one hand. Then she bathed Claire's face and neck with it. "Is that better, my love?"

Claire nodded against Marian's breast. Love surged through Marian, and she lightly squeezed Claire in a hug.

Marian looked up to find Robin leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, watching her. Confusion mixed with tenderness on his face.

"What?" she asked, smoothing Claire's hair and pressing a kiss to it.

He shook his head and shrugged. "You. You never used to be like...._this_." With his hands, he indicated her and Claire. "Even befo—"

Claire sat straight up and began to gag. Marian tugged the bucket over and Claire wretched into it.

"Now, now, where's the bairn?" Matilda's voiced reached them a moment before she appeared in the doorway. Leah was right behind her with a clean bucket.

Robin gave Marian a look that said they weren't finished with their conversation. Marian nodded, a small ball of nervousness trying to take root. She pushed it aside. Claire was her focus now. Whatever Robin had on his mind paled in the wake of Claire's sickness.

"Now, what seems to be the matter with the little 'un?" Matilda asked.

Marian wiped Claire's face again and then struggled to her feet with Claire's listless body and laid her on the bed. She and Leah took turns filling Matilda in as she gently examined Claire.

"She broke 'er fast this morning shortly after Master Robin and Lady Marian left for Mass," Leah said. "After that, she complained of 'er tummy bein' achy again and just wanted to sit in my lap—like she were this mornin' when Master Robin looked in on us. She fell asleep rather quickly so I put 'er in the bed and worked on tidying up t' other upstairs chambers, comin' to check on 'er every little bit.

"She seemed a bit restless, you know, and warm. So I took off the top blanket and left the thin one on. After that, I ran downstairs to check in with Thornton. When I got back she were awake. She said 'er tummy were hungry, so I fetched some bread and broth.

"She took them both, but afore she could even say anyfing, she started makin' the noise. I was going to work on scrubbin' the floors, so I had a bucket o' water wif me and I just stuck it right next to 'er and she puked right in the water.

"I hollered for Thornton after the first round seemed to have slowed. He came a running right quick. And then he sent Much after the master and the mistress and James after you."

"All right, Leah, thank you," said Marian. "You can go now. We'll call you when we need you."

Leah curtseyed again. "Yes, Mum." And she left, taking the dirtied bucket with her.

Matilda looked from Marian to Robin. "Did she eat anything new since yesterday?"

"No...we've not had any new dishes."

Matilda leaned down and looked at Claire. "Now, kitten, have you eaten anything you're not supposed to? Berries or leaves or anything? Bugs?"

Claire made a face and shook her head.

"It's all right if you did. You can tell Granny Matilda. I just need to know so's I can figure out what I need to do to make you feel better."

"I didn't eat anything wrong, Ma ma—" She gagged again.

Matilda sat her up and Marian grabbed the bucket. Claire threw up again, but not very much.

Once she was finished, Marian wiped Claire's face again.

"If she didn't eat anything, food or otherwise, that she shouldn't have, then it's probably just a stomach creeper. Just keep feeding her broths and bland porridge. She'll probably keep puking for the rest of today, maybe some tomorrow, but otherwise it'll just have to run its course. If you don't think she's better by tomorrow evening or the morning after that, come fetch me."

"Thank you, Matilda," Marian said, settling on the edge of Claire's bed. She pushed Claire's hair off her forehead and watched the medicine woman leave the room.

"I wish I could do more." Matilda patted Robin on the arm as she passed. "I'll show meself out."

Robin nodded and moved to stand next to Marian and looked down at Claire. She lay still, looking up at him, her eyes big and blue and half-unfocused.

Marian shared his distress. They both hated that this normally inquisitive and active child looked so lethargic and miserable. He stroked a finger down her cheek, eliciting a small smile from her. Moments later, she blinked several times, her lids getting heavier and heavier until they closed completely and her breathing evened out.

Marian sighed and slumped with relief. "Hopefully, she'll sleep for a bit."

"You and I need to talk," Robin said quietly. "Come." He took her hand and tugged gently.

She tensed and shook her head and said, "I don't want to leave her." She knew what he wanted to talk about. She wasn't sure she was ready to explain what she believed. It was quite unbelievable. But she knew that eventually she would have to—if she didn't get transported back to her real life any time soon.

"We're not." He nodded toward the chair in the corner and pulled again. She allowed him to lead her to the chair. He sat and pulled her onto his lap and she landed sideways with her hands in her lap. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his face against her arm. She sighed and they sat in slience for a time.

Marian sensed the struggle within him. From what she could determine from his random comments since the accident, she was different than his Marian. She didn't really understand in what ways, but they seemed significant. But how could she be that different? She was Marian no matter what, wasn't she?

But according to him, she wasn't. "What's on your mind, my lord husband?"

He rested his forehead against her arm and shook his head, a light but pained half-laugh, half-snort escaping him. "I...I do not know where to start. You are like you...but then you're not. I do not know how to explain it."

"I understand bet—"

"_Ma ma ma_," Claire called, her voice tinged with alarm.

Marian started and glanced at the little girl. "I am here, Claire."

The look of panic eased, but Claire scanned the room and smiled when her gaze alighted on her Marian. Then she took a deep breath and closed her eyes again.

"You wanted to talk, so talk—even if it doesn't make much sense."

"_You_ _see_...?" he said, gruffly. "That is what I am talking about."

"You are not talking about anything yet," she chided gently.

"Before your accident, you didn't tease. Before your accident, you wouldn't be sitting thus. Before your accident, you would have been resistant to a conversation. You would not refuse, but you would be a relectant participant. And now you are prodding me to talk. And even when I sensed that you'd rather not talk right now, you did not try to avoid it."

"What would be the point?"

"That's not the point. The point is that you are not at all like you were. Yes, you look the same, you talk the same, but you are not the same. You are affectionate to the girls...and to me. You are playful and fun and happy. You smile and your eyes sparkle. I have never seen you this way. Even before we married, you were more reserved."

With a finger to her chin, her urged her to look at him. "And today...earlier, before...when we...before we were interrupted..."

He sounded as affected by their encounter as she was. Heat whispered up her cheeks at his reminder.

His eyes darkened. "...you have never been so...so overcome...or uninhibited." His voice dropped to a whisper.

She opened her mouth to say "oh" but no words came out. That he was pleased with her response eased her worries and sent revived, though muted, desire thrugh her. She was held captive by his gaze. By the anguish there. And the heat.

"I..." He swallowed. "I don't want the real Marian back. And just thinking it, feeling it, makes me feel so guilty. I don't know why...you are still my Marian..." He cupped her cheek, rubbed her cheekbone with his thumb.

She leaned into his caress. No, she obviously wasn't his Marian. She understood now. And she was someone elses Marian. Should she tell him? Try to explain what she thought had happened? Would he believe her? Did it even matter? Was she ever going to get back to her own life and her own Robin?

Resting her forehead against his, she said, "I cannot know what is going to happen and neither can you. If I could ensure that things would remain as they are..."

Would she? This life was so different from her own. Mostly better since there was no Vaizey. Of course, there was Esmeralda, but she paled in comparison.

But it was not her own life, hr own father, her own Robin...

Did Marian really want to stay in this life and not worry about returning to her own? Did she have a choice? She really had no idea how she came to be here in the first place, except throught some fluke of having an accident, and so had no clue on how to return to her real life.

What did it say about _her_ that she _did_ want to stay with this Robin and these daughters and a _sister_? She completely understood his guilt.

Silence descended again. Claire slept on for a time. Leah brought up a platter of food for Robin and Marian and they moved to the floor and ate in companionable silence.

Shortly after they'd finished, Claire woke up and cried out.

She sat up looking panicked.

Robin jumped up and rushed to the bed, and plunked the bucket on the bed. Marian followed quickly grabbing the basin of water.

Claire opened her mouth to say something but she heaved instead. Once she finished, she cried for a time, and Robin and Marian took turns comforting her. Eventually, she took some more broth and finally fell asleep cradled in Robin's arms. He sent Marian on to bed with the promise that he'd come wake her to sit with Claire in a few hours.

But Claire remained asleep until the following morning. She looked a bit less pale and kept the porridge down for a short time, but she did eventually she throw it up. After Marian and Leah bathed her and put fresh linens on the bed, she napped again.

Shortly after sharing breakfast with Marian, Robin had left to visit Wadlow and Treeton. Marian returned to the ladies chamber and cared for Claire herself.

Robin had returned mid-afternoon, but had been called away again by an emergency in Nettlestone.

By that evening, Claire was looking much better and talking a bit more.

"Ma ma ma?"

"Yes, my love?"

"You didn't taked care of me when I was sick before."

Marian stilled and cold settled over her. With forced normalcy, she asked, "When was that?"

"When I was itchy all over. 'Member?"

Marian shook her head. "I'm sorry, I don't."

Claire frowned.

"Do _you_ remember when Ma ma ma fell off her horse and was sleeping for three days?"

Claire nodded.

"I hit my head when I fell and a lot of my memories went away."

"Oh.... Did you forget Ellie and me?" she asked, looking worried.

Marian offered her a reassuring smile. "I could never forget you and your sister."

Claire beamed. "I love you, Ma ma ma."

The next day, Claire was back to her old self, although still stuck in bed for the day. Robin had returned late the previous evening smelling smoky and was up early and back to had been a fire in one of the tenant cottages. She'd offered to go along to help in whatever way she could, but he'd said it was small fire with minimal damage and everything was under control. There was a vacant cottage and they were moving the old couple into it and then setting up a work crew to repair the damaged one.

Marian arranged with Thornton and Cook to send some provisions to Nettlestone, both for the old couple and for the work crew. After that, Marian sat for a moment to catch her breath. Her thoughts finally returned to her bag, her writing things, and the possibility of letters. Once she and the girls had eaten the midday meal and the girls put down for their nap, Marian headed for the barn.

Peter was nowhere to be found so Marian went into the small room where he'd apparently stowed her bag. With hands on hips, she looked around the semi-tidy space, but did not see it. She spotted another door that hopefully led to another storage room.

"Mylady, is there summat I can help yer wi'?"

Marian's stomach jumped into her throat and she whirled around. "Oh, Peter—you surprised me." She placed a hand against her chest, her breaths coming in shallow pants from her fright.

"My apologies, mum. Come back for yer bag?" He hurried to the door and yanked it open. He disappeared inside for a moment then reappeared holding a worn leather satchel bag. "Is this it?"

Her breath caught. She didn't truly know if it was or not, but she nodded and took it from him. "Yes, thank you. Thank you for keeping track of it."

Peter nodded. "My pleasure, mylady."

It was not so heavy, and the leather soft and worn, as if it had seen much use. She headed back to the house, tugging open the ties as she went. She scanned the contents. Quill, ink—_a packet of papers!_ Her stomach churned with aniticipation and a bit of worry. What if they _were_ letters from another man? What whould she do? Well, she wasn't going to read them where anyone, including Robin, _especially_ Robin, could just come upon her and then want to know what she was reading. What was she supposed to say then? She needed to be alone for this.

For the first time, fear that Robin's Marian had been unfaithful took hold, and she returned to the barn. "Peter will you saddle my horse?"

"Yes, mylady."

When he was finished, he led Vesper to the large boulder that served as a mounting block. Marian mounted and draped the satchel over her head and shoulder and took the reins. "I'll be at Lover's Pond if anyone needs me."

"Yes, mylady."

**To be continued…**


	16. Chapter 16

Marian slid from her horse and glanced around the meadow and at the log.

Memories of Sunday afternoon flooded her mind and her body tingled in remembrance. Why did Claire have to get sick? It sounded terrible, but she'd wanted him so very much.... Wanted to know what it was to lay with him. Once she gotten past her worries and her inhibitions, it had felt good—more than good—and so very right.

She shook her head to clear the thoughts. There would be time and opportunity later to pursue intimacies. If she were bold enough, she could probably even instigate them herself. But right now, she had these letters.

_Finally._

Settling on the log, she pulled the small bundle out of the satchel and untied the twine that held the small packet of papers together; there were less than a half-dozen sheets and she flipped through them.

They weren't letters, though. It looked to be some sort of...she perused the first page...journal. She felt like laughing. _A journal?_ What could be better than letters than a journal? Letters would have only given her bits and pieces of the true story—if any at all, especially if they had been from, say, Jane or her father. _Thank you_, she mouthed heavenward.

She inspected the sheets once more. The writing was almost identical to her own, but more cramped―like her other self worried about using up the paper and tried to cram as many words on the sheet as she could. The parchment was wrinkled as if having been crumpled up and then flattened out again several times, as well as folded and unfolded. She smoothed them out as best she could.

Taking a deep breath, she began to read.

_September 1191 ~_

_I am with child again, just a month or two. Robin is terribly excited about another baby and is, of course, hoping for a boy this time. The child should arrive in early spring. I, too, am glad for this new life. So far, I have not experienced the ill feelings as I did during the beginning of my confinement with Claire—thanks be to God for that._

_October 1191 ~_

_The harvest has gone well. All the villages will be well prepared for the winter. Robin is pleased, which makes the rest of us pleased as well. We will be traveling to the castle to turn in the taxes. I will get to see Father and Jane (and Esmeralda) and share the happy news._

_I am still feeling well, but my stomach grows rounder by the day. And it is times like this that I desperately miss Maman._

_November 1191 ~_

_The snows began early this year, but Robin reports that the villages are all managing fine so far. We celebrated Claire's third birthday, as well. She __is__ her father's daughter. Father was delighted to hear about his newest grandchild and Jane was also excited about being an aunt again._

_There's no hiding the evidence now. I am well and truly cow-like. Robin tells me I'm still beautiful, if not more-so. He says I have a glow like the sun. But I do not feel so beautiful._

_December 1191 ~_

_Christmas was as to be expected with Esmeralda presiding over the festivities, but Jane and I found ample time to visit. Claire has suddenly become afraid of Father's wife. Esmeralda was quite insulted, but how can you blame a three-year-old? I'm a little afraid of her myself._

_The babe has begun to move within me and I am wakened nightly by his antics. And I am finding that I am using the chamber pot quite often. I'd forgotten about the need to relieve myself constantly._

_January 1192 ~_

_We had a deep snow just after Epiphany and many of the villages seem buried. Robin and Much make their rounds as best they can, when they can. They have only had to relocate one family, so far, as their cottage collapsed under the weight of the snow._

_The babe is starting to move around enough to be seen and felt by others, and Robin finds it quite amazing to place his hand upon my belly and feel the movements. Sleep is illusive for me these days. If it is not the babe's activities within, then it is the pressure of the small body against my innards. I have forgotten why I was so excited about having another child._

_February 1192 ~_

_I am very tired of mud. We had a warm spell and much of the snow melted. Then we had mud. Now, it is freezing again. Claire has been out of sorts for several weeks, as have I. Perhaps because we have been stuck in the house for so many weeks. Only Robin seems unaffected. May hap, because he is the only one who ventures out into the world._

_The babe is quite active and Robin is even more fascinated by the movements across my belly. I am much less intrigued as I feel quite cramped on the inside. Much more so than with Claire. I can only pray there are not two of them._

_mid March 1192 ~_

_We had a scare with the babe at the beginning of the month. I began having birth pangs but it was still too soon. Matilda has banished me to bed until it is closer to when this babe should be born. She has also left some herbal mixes to help stop the pangs should they begin again. That has happened twice now. I am to lie down immediately with my feet elevated and then drink the herbal draught. That requires me to have a chaperone at all times. I am already tired of having company every waking moment. Some days, I am allowed to sit in a chair for a very short time. Other than that, I can only get up to use the chamber pot._

_Robin now spends the evenings with me and natters on about the villages. I know he feels sorry for me and wishes to ease the wait, but sometimes comfortable silence would be preferable. Unfortunately, I fear I would rip his head off if I tried to say anything. So I suffer. But not in silence._

_Not that I want the child to come before it is time, but I shall be quite relieved to have this whole ordeal over and done with._

_mid/end March 1192 ~_

_I am tired of embroidery. I am tired of sitting or lying around. I am tired of having people about me. My body aches all the time. And I had to drink that nasty brew yesterday as the pangs started and did not abate after a few minutes. I have a back ache from lying down with my feet up and the weight of the baby pressing on my insides. This had better be a boy because I will never have another child after this. It is a good thing my confinement with Claire did not turn out this way, else Robin might have had to take me by force._

_end March 1192 ~_

_I have been on bed rest for almost three weeks now and it is a full week since any kind of pains. I may just go stark raving mad before this babe is come. This child and this confinement are so completely opposite that of Claire's that it must be a boy. This child moves all the time—so much so that I cannot even sleep any more._

_Robin has been trying out names on me, but so far he has not offered anything I find appealing. Sad to say, I cannot even find it in me to name our son after his grandfather, much as it would please Robin to do so. But I suppose that I must come to terms with a name and soon._

_Matilda has said that since there has been no pains for a time we could...share intimacies if we so desired—but no lovemaking the normal way. Unless, of course, release brings on pains, then we must not do it again__―__at least on my part. She suggested we...we...that he pleasure me with his fingers, and I do the same for him. Robin suggested similar pleasuring__―__only with his mouth__―__when we first married, but I could not do it then either. He was disappointed, but understanding and has never brought it up since. After Matilda left, he mentioned it, but I just cannot bring myself to allow it or do it for him. He was very understanding, but the light in his eyes dimmed, and my heart nearly broke._

_beg April 1192 ~_

_My pains have begun again, but they are different from the ones I experienced before. Matilda says some woman get practice pains. I am no longer in need of practice. I am quite ready to have this child. And, as I have done this once before, know how it will work. I am well and truly tired of being with child and banished to my bedchamber like a naughty child._

_Speaking of naughty children, Claire has also been acting up. But I find that I no longer have the capacity or the will to discipline her; she is in the care of maids who have no notion of how to handle young children. And I am coddled and quarantined._

_Robin has been away from the manor more often than he is home of late. I fear I have driven him away with the pendulum of my feelings. His distance makes me both sad and angry, and I do not know which to address._

_beg April 1192 ~_

_I have been weeping for three days straight, it seems. And for no discernible reason. If my morning meal is to hot or too cold, I cry. If the maid looks at me wrong, I cry. If I do not hear Robin's voice or if I hear it for too long, I cry. The list goes on and on, and I do not know what is the matter with me. I assume the babe is wreaking havoc, somehow, and I cannot wait for him to arrive._

_mid April 1192 ~_

_The babe shall arrive soon. He has stopped moving so much and has settled deep within my body as if searching the way out. I can hardly move and have lost my appetite. That, at least, is the same as just before Claire's birth. I have sent word to Matilda and expect that she will be along later this afternoon._

_end April 1192 ~_

_Eleanor Katherine of Locksley is arrived and is __not__ a boy. I have wept over this fact every day since her birth. Robin assures me he is happy with another daughter, but I am not convinced that he is not disappointed in her and in me._

_The birth was horrendous, and the only reason I will put myself through it again is to provide Robin a son. I am not fully recovered from the ordeal and still must lie abed for a time longer. I have been looking at these same four walls for almost two months. At least I am free of the constraints of carrying the babe, although she is brought for feeding every few hours._

_mid May 1192 ~_

_Spring is finally here for good. The snow is gone, but the mud remains. The flowers have begun to bloom, but they offer no joy. I have been allowed to resume all activities but riding and lovemaking for at least another week, maybe two. Matilda is still encouraging us to find pleasure with hands or mouths, but the thought repulses me._

_Robin and Much have resumed their regular rounds of the villages, and I am relieved. Claire and I have begun her lessons again, but she has become quite the handful and by the time we are done, I am exhausted and thankful for the mid-day meal and nap time._

_Sadness hangs over me like a cloud, and I cannot seem to find pleasure in much of anything. The babe is doing well and is down to about eight feedings a day at very regular intervals, even throughout the night. It is quite tiresome._

_end May 1192 ~_

_Today Matilda said I could resume riding and lovemaking. I have not been outside of Locksley Manor in almost three months. After Ellie's morning feed, I went for a long ride, reacquainting myself with our holdings. Of course, my bottom half is now sore since I am not used to such activities._

_Robin is eager to resume relations, of course, but I am not ready. Either to be with him or to chance becoming with child again. He is understanding, of course, but I read the disappointment in his eyes. I spent the rest of the day close to tears and am so very tired of feeling this way. I do not know what to do._

_beg June 1192 ~_

_Watching Robin deal with Ellie makes me weep. I know how much he wanted a son, but I have failed him and I feel so sad. At the same time, I am angry because I do feel so sad. And that makes me terribly confused. How can I feel all of these things at once?_

_Some days I just want to scream, but most days I feel on the edge of bursting into tears. Everyone tiptoes around me except Thornton, who seems to just ignore it and goes about his business. He comes to me as usual, and we go through the motions, but he ends up making most of the decisions._

_I ride everyday now and that helps, but only a little. After being confined to the house for so long, I find myself craving the fresh air._

_Robin has been hinting about lovemaking again. But I just...can't. The light in his eyes dims a little more each time I say no. And I hate myself. But I just can't make myself do anything about it. And then I hate myself more._

_mid June 1192 ~_

_We went for a visit to the castle so that Father and Jane could finally meet the latest addition to the family. Robin acted quite the proud father, but I know that he wishes Ellie had been a son. Father and Jane were quite taken with her though and Esmeralda was completely disinterested although she faked it rather well. She even held Ellie for a few moments._

_I felt oppressed while there and was not able to ride on a daily basis as I do here at home. I was never so happy to leave. Jane asked to come along for a few days, but I really didn't feel up to having her. Robin was both surprised and displeased, but did not over-ride my decision._

_end June 1192 ~_

_We are now having a heat wave. I do not like the heat. The girls are irritable as well. It is almost unbearable to ride, but it is worse not to. Robin arrives home from his rounds equally surly._

_I know that I do not help his moods and that a tumble might actually ease the tension. But I just cannot. I am not interested at all. Not that that always matters, I know. But it has been so long and I am nervous and afraid, and the thought of another pregnancy and birth such as Ellie's leaves me cold._

_He has been more than patient and that irritates me. Although, of late, his patience begins to wear thin, and I fear_

_No!_

_What did she fear...?_ Marian looked at the paper, at the back, for another page. But nothing. Her other self must have been interrupted. She looked into the satchel, but there were no loose sheets inside. She looked back down at the papers. At the writing.

A chill rippled through her despite the warmth of the sun shining down on her. The sadness and the despair seemed to inhabit the parchment. Marian felt tendrils of it envelop her. She considered this other Marian.

She'd never felt so distraught herself, and she really couldn't imagine being so unhappy. It didn't seem like there was anything out of the ordinary going on, aside from a rough confinement. And Robin seemed perfectly happy and pleased with Ellie. She couldn't believe him to be anything but pleased.

Marian's heart broke for her other self and for Robin who had no idea that his real wife was struggling with these things. If only she'd talked to him about Ellie being a girl and her worries over going through another pregnancy. But that didn't explain the constant sadness and weeping.

_Perhaps Matilda would know._

Yes, of course. Why hadn't she thought of that sooner? Mayhap her other self had talked to Matilda.

She folded the papers back up and retied the twine, shoving the packet back into the satchel. As she mounted Vesper and headed for Locksley village, the cold feeling left her.


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood, Robin, Marian, Guy, et al. I have earned nothing from this endeavor, but the joy that comes from the writing and the possibility of a nice comment or two.

**Marian: Through the Looking Glass, Chapter Seventeen**

Marian awoke.

Blinking to clear her vision and erase the cobwebs from her mind, she stared at the canopy above her.

Her heart began pounding and she swallowed back her rising fear. Something was different. Something was not right. She must still be asleep and dreaming. There was no way for her to be in _this_ place unless she was dreaming.

The last thing she remembered was rushing through the forest on her way home to Locksley—after her horse had thrown her—only to trip over a tree root buried amongst the leaves. She must have hit her head and blacked out for a time, but how in the world had she ended up in her girlhood bed chamber back at the castle?

She rubbed her eyes and then sat up and looked around.

Her heart began to flutter, and she swallowed back the rising anxiety.

It had changed little since she'd married Robin and moved to Locksley.

But wait—this wasn't right at all.

Fear filled her chest, constricting her lungs until she struggled to breathe.

Jumping up, Marian scurried around the room and looked at her clothes and shoes and girlish belongings.

How could this be? Shortly after she'd married Robin, Esmeralda had turned Marian's chamber into a sewing room for the seamstresses to have better light than the former room down near the kitchens.

Marian's heart pounded now and her head hurt. A mantle of cold settled around her and she trembled in dread. Something was terribly, terribly wrong. She must find Father or Jane. Even Esmeralda would do.

Marian rushed into the corridor and went in search of Father.

She burst into his office and looked about frantically, her heart sinking. She pulled in lungfuls of air, her panic rising.

He wasn't here. Where else would he be?

_The solar_—perhaps he was visiting with Esmeralda. _Please, let him be visiting Esmeralda._

She stumbled back into the corridor and headed for her step-mother's domain. chamber maid stopped and bobbed a curtsy. "Mum."

Marian responded with a shaky nod and hurried on.

She passed a young page. He stopped and dropped his gaze.

Her throat tightened and tears prickled her eyes. What was going on?

Something had happened.

The solar doors were ahead—and open.

Quite unusual for Esmeralda. Voices—gentle, modulated voices—floated out to Marian. Not the imperious orders issued in Esmeralda's mannish, beligerent tone.

She stepped into the solar and stopped short—a familiar and beloved voice reached Marian's ears.

Her heart stopped and dropped into her stomach and then took off in a mad gallop. She gasped for breath again.

_No!_

"Oh, Èduoard, she will be fine eventually. We must give her time."

The voice was lyrical with a light French accent.

_Maman?_

Her heart jumped to her throat. Her breath caught. She scanned the room.

"I am afraid for her, my dear. What was she doing so deep in the forest?" said Father. "She could have been hurt worse. And there are ruffians."

Marian's gaze landed on..._her mother?_

She clutched her skirts. She couldn't breathe and gulped air.

It couldn't be—she must be dreaming. Had to be dreaming.

"_Maman?_" she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Both her parents' heads turned in her direction.

A spilt second later, Marian's mother began moving toward her. "Marian, mon ange, you are awake. How is your head?"

Marian gasped and collapsed, her world going black once more.

Marian heard the crackling of the fire before she opened her eyes. Someone sat nearby, humming. Marian opened her eyes and turned to look.

The woman who looked and sounded like _Maman_ was sitting in a chair near the bed working on a small embroidery and humming.

She glanced up from her work and smiled. "Mon ange. I see you have decided to join us again. How is your head?"

Marian sat up and scooted backwards to sit against the headboard and regarded this woman who acted like _Maman_—who was supposed to be dead. Marian couldn't bring herself to believe it. People did not come back from the dead.

Her heart thumped and her head hurt.

She must be asleep, dreaming. It wasn't quite a nightmare, but the sorrow she'd gone through when her mother had died fought against fear and panic. What was wrong with her? This was worse than what she'd been going through before.

The woman smiled, but Marian couldn't bring herself to return it.

"Are you feeling better, ma fafille?"

That voice—the one that sang her to sleep in French or tempered Father's anger when Marian had been naughty as a little girl. She squeezed her eyes shut to stay the tears.

It wasn't _her_. It couldn't be _Maman_. How could someone be so cruel as to pretend to be someone's else's dead mother. A spark of anger flared in her belly and warmth bloomed on her cheeks. Marian opened her eyes and blinked away the moisture. "Who are you?" she demanded.

The woman's mouth made a large O shape, and then she spoke in that lyrical voice, "What do you mean, who am I? Je suis votre mère."

She spoke French, too? Confusion fought anger inside Marian, but the anger won. A lot of people spoke French. "My mother is dead. She died giving birth to my sister, Jane. Where is Jane?"

Horror turned the woman's face red, tears filled her blue eyes.

Eyes like Marian's own. Marian pushed away the seed of doubt. Her mother had died. _Was_ dead.

"Non," the woman said with a firm shake of her head. "It is the bébé who died. Jane est au ciel avec Dieu et ses anges."

"No, _Maman_ is in heaven with God and His angels. Jane is eleven years old. Where are Robin and Claire and Eleanor?"

Now the woman looked confused. "Qui sommes Claire et Eleanor?"

"Claire and Eleanor are my babies. Where is Robin?"

"Marian," the woman said gently, rising and placing her embroidery in the chair. She settled on the edge of the bed.

The familiar lilt in her voice made Marian's breath catch. So like _Maman's_, but it just couldn't be. However, it was the sudden sad and wary look in the woman's eyes that really caught Marian's attention. "Where is my husband?" Marian asked.

"Votre mari? You did not marry before he left."

Marian scrambled down the bed and climbed off the end, her heart pounding, as was her head. What was this woman saying? "We are married—where did he go? Left for where?"

The woman came around the bed toward Marian. "Marian—you must listen to me."

The woman reached for Marian, but Marian stepped back.

The woman's hands dropped to clutch her skirts. "Robin is...dead. You must try to accept it, mon ange. He left for the Crusades the winter before last. His man servant returned only a month ago with the news that he was killed."

"_Nooo!_" Marian screamed. "He is not dead. He did not go to the Holy Land! You are a liar! It is one of Esmeralda's cruel jokes." Marian cried now, tears rolling down her face, anger and fear once again battling inside her. Her heart beat so hard it hurt. "Where is Robin. Please, you must tell me."

"Marian," the woman entreated, moving closer. "Mon ange—it is no joke. I would never be so cruel. Qui est Esmeralda?"

"I do not understand how Father could have married her."

The woman shook her head. "You are distraught and your mind is playing tricks on you. But I do not. Le docteur left you a sleeping draught." She stepped next to Marian and put her arm around Marian's shoulders.

Marian jerked away. "_I do not want to sleep_. I want Robin."

"Marian, I told you. He is—"

"_No!_ I will go to Locksley." Marian ran from the room.

"Marian, come back," the woman called.

Marian paid her no heed and flew to the stables. One of the grooms entered from the other side.

"Quickly, please, saddle a horse for me." She gasped for air as she waited. Everything hurt. Her head, her stomach, her heart.

"Yes, mistress."

The groom picked a large grey mare.

She never realized Esmeralda could be so evil. And Father—Father had been a party to it. He had been speaking with the French woman.

Surely, not.

She shook her head. It made no sense. Father would not be so heartless and vicious. Unless he was being pressured by Prince John. But surely he would not be so cruel to his own daughter.

What was going on? She had to get to Locksley. "Hurry, please..."

He did as she bid and in another couple of minutes, she was astride and trotting through Nottingham. As soon as she cleared the town gate, she kicked the horse to a gallop.

_Robin...I must find Robin...I must get to Robin...I need Robin..._

The words pounded in her brain in time with the horse's hooves.

She pulled the horse to a halt and looked around Locksley's courtyard. There were no signs of life. In fact, it looked rather desolate and unkempt. Her stomach tightened and a chill swept over her. How long had she been knocked out?

Sliding from her mount she hurried toward the manor, calling, "_Robin! Where are you? Thornton!? Much!? Leah!?_"

Thornton appeared from the kitchen, but halted as if surprised to see her. "Mistress Marian?"

She stopped up short and took in his appearance. He looked haggard and stooped and...and...old. Fear gripped her.

The woman's words flitted through Marian's mind. She wanted to push them away, but suddenly she could not. She had to ask. "Thornton...wh-where is Robin? I cannot find him anywhere. Please tell me you know where he is...." Her voice broke on the last word.

Grief creased his face as he trudged toward her.

Cold washed over her, through her.

"Mistress," he said gently, "you know where he is. He is..." Thornton swallowed. "He is dead, my lady. You know that. Much told you so himself." Thornton's voice cracked.

Tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. Doubt in what she knew to be true pushed aside the anger, uncertainty replaced certainty. Slowly, she shook her head. "No, Thornton, I'd know it if my husband were dead. He can't be dead. He's not dead. I'd know it...I'd feel it if he were. Robin did not go to the Holy Land. We were married. We have daughters."

Thornton looked at her, sorrow and pity on his face. "Mistress, please, do not do this to yourself."

Anger and confusion churned inside her.

She studied Robin's steward.

He would not lie to her. Not about this. He had no reason. He loved Robin, too. He gained nothing. She felt everything and then nothing but despair.

Collapsing in a heap, she wept, calling for Robin over and over.

_Robin is dead._

_He'd gone to the Holy Land._

_But when?_

_Robin...!_

_He couldn't be gone._

_She needed him._

_Claire and Ellie needed him._

Would she really know if he were dead? She'd done nothing but push him away the last five months. He'd tried so hard to cheer her. He'd been patient with her. He'd cared for their daughters. He'd given her time and space. But she'd pulled away...put distance between them, both emotional and physical.

And now...she no longer knew. Mayhap, he really was dead, and she couldn't feel it—wouldn't know it inside herself any more.

She cried harder, rocking and keening, clutching hunks of hair in her hands. "No...no...no.... Robin..._please_. I'm sorry. So, so sorry...."

Hard footsteps sounded on the floorboards.

"What's this then?" asked Sir Guy de Gisborne. He looked at the obviously distraught woman on the floor of his new manor. Who was she and what, besides carrying on, was she doing here?

She stilled and quieted at his words. Slowly, she looked up, but random strands of dark hair hid her face.

"And who might you be?" Guy asked.

She sniffed and blinked and pushed her hair out of the way. "I am Marian, mistress of Locksley and countess of Huntingdon."

He chuckled. "I don't recall marrying recently."

Her blue eyes widened and she frowned in affront. "What are you implying?"

"I imply nothing. _I _am lord of Locksley and earl of Huntingdon, and this is my new home. I'll move in in a matter of weeks." He'd handed his own lands farther north to his younger brother, Cedric.

The mistress Marian struggled to her feet and swiped away the remnants of her tears. Splotches of color tainted her otherwise pale face.

"_What?_ What are you talking about?" she asked.

Guy knew of Locksley from the Holy Land, but there'd been no mention of a widow. Locksley had served the king well, but had lost his life on some fool's errand. Guy had also served Richard well in various capacities and upon Locksley's death, the monarch had given the dead man's lands to him. His new mission was to watch the sheriff's back and keep tabs on Prince John.

Guy sighed and said gently, "On the death of the last lord of this manor, the earldom was conferred upon me six months ago by the king, and I have just recently returned to England to claim my rights."

The color bled from the woman's face and she swayed. Tears filled her eyes and she charged him.

"No, no, no, no, no..." She wailed, beating her fists ineffectually against his chest.

Guy rested his hands lightly on her upper arms as she continued her assault.

Poor woman. She'd lost her husband and now her home. But that was not his doing. "Is there a healer close by?" he asked the steward—Thornton, if he recalled correctly.

"Yes, milord, Matilda, here in Locksley Village."

"Fetch her. Explain the situation."

Thornton bowed slightly and headed for the door.

Guy returned his attention to the woman weeping against his chest. He held her gently and allowed her continue. She'd stopped hitting him and now gripped his tunic in her fists, dousing him with her tears.

**To be continued…**


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood, Robin, Marian, et al. I have earned nothing but the joy that comes from the writing and the possibility of a nice comment or two.

**Marian: Through the Looking Glass, Chapter Eighteen**

Robin slid from Shade's back with a sigh of relief. The repairs to the cottage in Nettlestone would be completed on the morrow. He wanted to bathe and eat and see the ladies of his life, especially Marian. It had been several days since their interrupted tryst at the pond and he was eager to hold her close, to kiss her, tell her how much he loved her. And, mayhap, try again. His body stirred slightly at the thought.

Robin handed the reins to Much who led both horses to the barn.

The house was curiously quiet when Robin entered. 'Course, it was still mid-afternoon. The girls would be sleeping, but Marian ought to be about somewhere.

Thornton emerged from the kitchen. "Master Robin." He took a good look at Robin and said, "A bath?"

"Yes, please.... Have you seen my lady wife?"

Thornton thought for a moment. "Not since the mid-day meal, milord."

Robin looked around, his thoughts fluttering with unease. "All right..." Since her accident, she'd always been home when he'd arrived. Perhaps she was napping as well. She'd been the one up and checking on Claire in the middle of the night since she took ill.

He took the stairs two at a time and hurried quietly towards their bed chamber. The door was ajar, but the bed was empty when he peeked in. He pushed all the way inside and looked into the dressing room, but she was not there either.

His unease blossomed into apprehension. He shook it off.

She was somewhere.

And she was safe.

And she was her new self.

She was not her old self.

He would bathe and then he would find her.

After donning clean clothing, Robin toured the house and the rear yard, but Marian was nowhere to be found. A sense of foreboding trickled through him.

He headed for the barn.

He noticed right away that Vesper was missing and his stomach dropped to his shoes. _Please let her just be visiting someone._

But whom?

"_Peter_," Robin called.

Robin heard scuffling and a muffled response. A moment later, Peter appeared looking quite disheveled and dirty. "What on earth are you doing?"

"Been cleanin' the storage room, milord. How can I help yer?"

"I see my lady wife's horse is gone. Did she say where she was going?" Robin tried to keep the panic from his voice.

"Oh, yes, milord." Peter nodded. "Took her old satchel up to Lover's Pond."

Robin didn't know whether to be relieved or even more worried. She used to take that satchel with her on her long rides. He'd never known what was inside of it—he'd respected her privacy and never looked in it. And the fact that she was at Lover's Pond rather than prowling through Sherwood was a good sign. He took a breath.

"Thank you, Peter." Robin nodded and turned. Well, he would just walk up to the pond and surprise her.

When he rounded the bend, he saw neither horse nor wife.

His heart and his feet picked up speed for the last several feet to the log. "Marian?" He looked around.

She'd been here. The horse and people tracks were recent, but she was gone. His thoughts now flew in all different directions and he swallowed the lump forming in his throat.

If she'd been on her way back to the manor, they would have crossed paths. That meant she'd gone somewhere else and been gone at least thirty minutes. But where?

Fear now gripped him and he raced back to the manor. "_Peter!_" he called as he approached the barn and entered. "_Peter?_"

Peter hurried from the storage room again, looking concerned. "Yes, milord, is summat wrong?"

"When Marian came for her horse, how was she?"

"Oh, well, she didn't actually come for her horse. Not at first. She came for her satchel and started back to the manor. Then she turned around and asked me to saddle her horse."

"But how was she?"

Peter shook his head, looking confused and a bit afraid at the same time. "She were fine, milord. Looked a bit distracted about summat."

"Did she seem sad?"

Peter thought for a moment, but shook his head again. "No, milord."

Robin gave the servant a curt nod and rushed back to the manor.

Where the hell was she? It was a fine time for her to disappear.

Had his worst fears come to pass? Had her memories returned? And what would happen to the new Marian? He struggled to breathe as his blood rushed through his body.

He had to go look for her. But where did he start? She could be anywhere.

He paced the great room.

His mind raced with worried thoughts, angry thoughts, dark thoughts.

Perhaps she was hurt again.

Maybe she'd just left for good.

He whirled on his heel and stormed up the stairs. As he passed the ladies chamber, he heard crying. His heart clenched. He needed to see his girls—the girls Marian hadn't remembered. He whirled around and entered the chamber.

Mary stood in the corner, swaying and bouncing a crying Ellie; she smiled at Robin. Baby Thomas lay on a blanket in the corner, up on all fours, rocking back and forth as if attempting to crawl.

Claire looked up from her toys, her eyes lighting up. "Da da da!" she exclaimed and raced over to him.

He scooped her up and hugged her tightly. Love filled him. "Oh, my Claire..."

After a moment, she squirmed in his too-snug embrace.

Loosening his hold, he transitioned her to sit on his arm. "How are you today, my love?"

She planted a wet kiss to his cheek. "I am going to play outside."

"Is that so? That sounds like fun. Put your shoes on then." He set her to the floor. "And no eating any bugs."

"Yucky, Da da da," she said, making a face.

Robin chuckled and crossed to Mary and took Ellie from her. He'd been so afraid during those last weeks before her birth—that somehow he'd lose her—and Marian. He'd never been so relieved than when she'd been born no worse for wear.

Marian, on the other hand, had been terribly affected. The birth had been hellacious and he'd sworn to himself at the time that he'd never make her go through it again. The fact that Ellie had not been the son they'd both expected, made not one bit of difference to him.

He blew a raspberry on one of Ellie's wet cheeks and then held her aloft. "Now, my little princess, what seems to be the trouble?" He jiggled her a bit and she flashed him a toothless smile. "That's better..."

Settling her into the crook of one arm, he brushed a hand over her downy head. Her hair was finally starting to come in. A nut brown like his, not the dark dark brown like Marian and Claire. And that pleased him no end.

"Looks like she just needed a little attention from her da," Mary said.

"It's been a crazy few days." Robin leaned in gave Ellie another kiss to the top of her head. "We should be able to get back to our normal routine now."

Mary indicated Ellie with a single nod. "She'll be ready to sleep at home in a week or two, I think. She's be—"

"_Mary—_" Leah burst into the room and both Robin and Mary both looked at her in surprise. "Yer 'usband is downstairs looking for ya."

"Whatever for—'e knows I can't come 'ome till supper time."

"It's fine, Mary. I can take of my own children for a time. You go on," Robin said.

"Are ya sure?" Mary asked, picking up Thomas.

"Of course." He nodded. He wouldn't be able to look for Marian, now, though. Not that he knew where to begin anyway.

Marian tied Vesper to the fence outside Matilda's small cottage and called, "Matilda—are you here? Matilda?"

The door opened and Matilda stepped out wiping her hands in her apron. Her mass of brown curly hair floated about her head like a cloud.

Thank goodness she was home.

"Lady Marian," she said, quite surprised. "Is Claire feeling worse?"

"What? No." Marian shook her head. "Claire is fine; feeling much better. I need to ask you about something."

Marian had considered telling Matilda that she wasn't really the Marian that belonged here. But if she told anyone, Robin deserved to know first. And she just didn't know how to tell him, what exactly to say...

"Oh...? Well, come in." Matilda waved Marian inside and followed her, closing the door behind them.

Marian glanced about the small dwelling. It was neat and tidy with several homey touches—a small goblet with a bouquet of wildflowers sat on the table, a mural of the country side was painted on one wall, and a collection of small carved wooden animals were lined up on a shelf. "You have a lovely home."

"Thank you, lady. Would you like to sit?"

Marian nodded and took a seat. Matilda sat as well.

"So...?" Matilda said.

"Yes, well..." Marian's heart rate picked up a bit and she took a breath. She didn't quite know where to start. "I'd been keeping a journal. I just found it again and it was quite interesting. I began it back when I originally found out about Ellie and the last entry was right before my accident.

"I was _very_ unhappy before my accident..."

Matilda nodded. "You had a rough time of it there at the end of your confinement, what with the scare with the babe."

"It was more than that. I wrote of deep sadness, weeping all the time, anger. Sometimes all at the same time. I am—" Marian shook her head. "—_was_ convinced that Robin was disappointed with another daught—"

"That's rubbish."

"I know that _now_. And I am not feeling any of those things any longer. As you know, I have few, if any, memories of my life before the accident...

"From what I've learned, I am hardly the same person I was. _At all_." That was an understatement. "And Robin is so much happier now. Claire is blossoming. I am deathly afraid that if my memories come back...then things will get bad again. And Robin...he will be hurt...." That was the part she feared the most—leaving Robin hurt and confused and with expectations of his Marian that she would be unable to fulfill.

"Listen, lady..." Matilda placed a hand on Marian's arm. "...I don't know much about memories or about how the mind works, but it seems to me that your old memories would just come back. Maybe one by one, maybe in a rush, but these new ones won't go away..."

Marian knew better. But she would play along, so she nodded. "Very well. But tell me about what was wrong with me. So I can be prepared."

"Well, were you happy about the babe to begin with?"

Marian nodded. "Oh, yes, quite so. I believed it was a boy because everything was so different from Claire. But as the confinement progressed, my feelings began to grow dark. I was upset over one thing or another all the time. And then of course being confined to the house and to the bed did not help matters. And once Ellie was born and she was a girl...well, I was convinced that Robin was disappointed in us both. Why was I like that?"

"No one knows for sure, but I've seen it before. I call it the after-baby doldrums. It just takes understanding on the part of the husband and talkin', lots of talkin'. And help with the babe if you can swing it—which, in your case, is not a problem. Many husbands think it's hogwash, but I've seen it too many times in all sorts of mums."

"It seemed like more than just doldrums."

"Oh, yes, it can get quite severe."

"And you fix it by talking?"

"Aye." Matilda nodded. "By being honest. O' course it helps when the husband is willing, which many aren't. But Robin is a good man and would do anything for you. There was one mum went and killed herself she was so bad off. Left the poor man with three little uns and the newborn besides."

Marian shivered. She hoped her other self had not reached that level of despair. She didn't think so, but if things had gone on any longer... Or if everyone returned to their own lives and everything remained as it had been. She shook her head. No...she was quite sure Robin would not let that happen not after they'd come so close to intimacies. Which left Marian with one last concern.

She and Robin had come so close to making love at least twice. The one thing her other self dreaded most...what would happen if she and Robin _did_ make love and then somehow his Marian returned?

"What about..." Marian blushed, and she felt the warmth take over her face. But she forced herself to look at Matilda. This was no time get overly embarrassed. Matilda had probably seen and heard a lot in her day.

Matilda smiled. "Love makin'?"

Marian nodded and looked down at her hands folded in her lap. "I was so afraid...dreaded the thought of intimacies. Of getting with child and going through all of that again. I'd pushed him away and our marriage was suffering."

"Have you done since you woke up from your accident?"

"No..." Marian shook her head again, her face burning now. "Almost. But I don't remember that part either, so I feel like an innocent maid all over again."

Matilda chuckled. "Oh, what I wouldn't give to feel like an innocent maid again." She winked. "Is that really so bad?"

"It is when you're so nervous and your husband can't understand why when he knows he's already taken what you can't remember you've given."

Matilda sobered. "You're right, lady. My apologies."

"What do I do?"

"Relax...be playful...do a lot o' touchin' first...let things happen. There should be little pain involved since you've already lost your innocence and had two babies."

Marian sighed. If she only knew. And that still didn't solve the problem of the other Marian coming back to her life and finding her husband pressuring her to make love because he just recently made love to her and she would have no idea of what had happened.

**To be continued…**


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood or Robin, Marian, et al. I have earned nothing from this endeavor but the joy that comes from the writing and the possibility of a nice comment or two.

**Marian: Through the Looking Glass, Chapter Nineteen**

Thornton returned a short time later with a plump woman with curly brown hair. She had not a speck of gray in her hair, but Guy guessed she was a dozen or so years older than him, although, maybe, not quite as old as Thornton.

Matilda hurried through the door clutching a burlap bag that she immediately dropped to the floor and hurried toward Guy and the woman he held.

"Mistress Marian," the woman said, clucking like the older hen she was. She glanced up at him and nodded as she put her arm around Marian.

Guy released his hold, light as it was, and stepped back.

"Oh, Matilda..." Marian said with a shuddering sigh. She looked at Guy before she turned her attention to the healer. "They say Robin is dead."

He heard the sorrow and the anguish in her voice. But was that a look of gratitude she'd given him? For what? Coming into her home—_former_ home—and destroying her world?

"I know, my pet," Matilda said. Turning to Guy, she asked, "Is there a room we could use?"

Guy shrugged and looked at Thornton who stood just inside the door. "Is there a room?"

"Yes, of course, right this way." Thornton picked up the bag Matilda had dropped and then led the way upstairs.

"Is there someone I should notify?" Guy asked after them.

"The sheriff. This is his daughter," said Matilda.

_Just bloody lovely._ He'd just taken the sheriff's dead son-in-law's lands. That would go over like a stone pigeon.

Guy took in Nottingham Town as he made his way through it to the castle. It was bustling with people hawking their wares and services. Must be market day. He'd heard the sheriff here was a benevolent one and well-liked by the peoples of the shire. Too benevolent said some. Prince John was on the prowl and looking to gain some power and find a strong-hold. The king feared that Nottinghamshire was his target. It was Guy's charge to scout the situation, report back to Richard, and possibly position himself as the sheriff's right hand man.

He arrived in the castle courtyard and dismounted. A page hurried forward.

"How may I help you, milord?" asked the liveried boy with a half-bow.

"I need to speak to the sheriff regarding his daughter."

The boy's eyes widened and he nodded. "Right this way, milord." The boy hustled back up the stairs.

Guy followed. He was shown into the great hall, a standard of every castle; although for the size of this castle, the hall itself wasn't that large.

"Please wait here, milord. I shall fetch the sheriff," said the boy disappearing through a set of double doors below the landing where they'd entered.

Guy again thought of the maid and remembered the feel of her in his arms. Poor lass. She'd accepted his comfort, such and little as it was, and he'd felt needed. For a miniscule amount of time and for the first time in a long while. It felt good. But he pushed it aside. His attentions would be inappropriate and unwelcome. And he was not in the market for a woman. Any woman. Not now.

"I am the sheriff of Nottingham," said a voice.

Guy whirled around as the sheriff bustled down the stairs. He was older and grayer than Guy expected, but that was neither here nor there. "I am Guy de Gisborne. I have come about your daughter, Marian. She's at Locksley, quite distraught. The healer woman, Matilda, was brought in."

The sheriff held out his hand. Guy slid his hand into the other man's and received a hearty handshake.

"I cannot thank you enough. Would you care to sit? I can have some wine or ale brought."

"No. Thank you. We need to talk," said Guy.

The sheriff sobered. "Of course. Let's sit. I apologize for any inconvenience Marian brought upon you. And I will recompense Matilda for her services."

"That is of no consequence," Guy said as the men took seats. "There is no easy way to say this...I am the new lord of Locksley and earl of Huntingdon."

The other man's jaw dropped for a moment. Then he blinked and collected himself. "Well, that _is_ news. Congratulations."

Guy canted his head. "I was not aware that I was displacing the former lord's widow from her home."

"Widow?" The sheriff looked surprised even as he shook his head. "No, no, they were not married. Upon hearing the news, Marian fainted. When she woke up a few hours later, she'd fabricated this tale that they'd married, that they had children. Which is rather curious as they were more like brother and sister than sweethearts. But I assure you, you are not displacing her. She still lives here with her mother and me."

"Ah, well..." Guy nodded once, uncertainly. "...I came to let you know where she was and that we called in the healer." Curious indeed, thought Guy. But he had his own worries to occupy him. He had no time for a grieving widow. Nay, not a widow according to her father. Well, whatever her status, Guy had important business to attend to. He'd get her out of his new home, get Locksley Manor cleaned up and livable, and then he'd proceed with his mission.

Marian pulled her horse to a stop and slid to the ground. Everything Matilda told her whirled around in her head. Marian was still unsure about the love-making. Did she or didn't she? There was just no way to know if she'd ever return to her own life or if this Marian would return home. Was it fair to put life on hold for a possibility? For any of them? But how do you explain to yourself that you made love to your husband?

She wouldn't deny that she wanted to. In fact, she'd been ready before her accident to take that final step. Yes, she was nervous about it. Only her Robin was pragmatic and worried about her virtue. And Guy seemed quite eager, although less worried about her virtue, but she just wasn't interested despite the fact that they were supposed to be betrothed.

In this world, though, she had a few more people to consider, and that had made the decision a bit more complicated.

A curious fear settled in her stomach. What was going on in her real world? She'd been so caught up in the situation here, she'd given scant thought to her own. Was this Marian there? The poor woman would certainly think she'd gone mad to find her husband wasn't really her husband and that she was betrothed to another man. And one she'd probably never heard of.

And then it was as if the sun came up in her mind—she'd leave a note in the journals for the other Marian. Tell her other self what she'd found out and how to get better. The rest would be up to her. And she—_this_ she—would have to tell Robin. Tell him everything. He would have to be prepared as well.

Marian hurried toward the manor. It was just supper time and she'd lost all track of time talking with Matilda. Robin would be so worried.

She burst through the door to find Robin and the girls already eating.

"Ma ma ma," Claire called happily. She jumped from her chair and rushed to Marian, wrapping her arms around Marian's thighs. Marian hugged Claire and released her.

Robin got to his feet. "Where have you been?" He looked at their daughter. "Return to the table."

He asked calmly enough, but she and Claire both heard the steel in his voice. Claire scuttled back to the table without argument. Robin watched her and then turned to Marian. She was taken aback by the anger glittering in his eyes and the emotion roiling off him.

"I...I was at Matilda's...."

"Matilda's? For _four_ hours?"

"Yes, I—"

"Perhaps you'd care to join us? We can talk later."

"Of course." Marian hurried to her seat and took some food. She looked at Ellie who was seated on a block and strapped to the chair with a long length of linen. "Hello, princess."

Ellie wiggled, smiling and drooling around the fist in her mouth.

"And how are you, Claire?" Marian asked before taking a bite of her meal.

"I played outside with Da da da today."

Marian's gaze shot to Robin's. He raised a brow.

Marian looked back to Claire. "Did you, now? I bet you had all sorts of fun, didn't you?"

"Uh huh. And I didn't eat any bugs."

Had Robin not been shooting daggers at her with his eyes, Marian might have laughed. As it was, her biteful of mushy carrots now threatened to choke her. Instead, she mumbled, "Oh, that's good."

Robin dragged the meal out, taking his time talking to Claire about the villages and feeding Ellie tiny bits of smashed carrots and small bites of the soft inside of a hunk of break. Marian gave up on her own meal.

The little she'd eaten sat like a stone in her stomach.

At last he declared the meal over and called Leah to draw baths for the girls; he then proceeded to bathe them himself. He tucked Claire into bed with Ellie next to her and made up a story about a fairy princess who slept on a pea. When he was done with that, he kissed Claire goodnight and carried an already sleepy Ellie to Mary's cottage.

The whole time, Marian fretted and prowled the great room. She had no idea what was bothering Robin. He was obviously upset, but she'd just lost track of time. That wasn't such a big crime, was it?

He stepped back in the manor and her heart nearly stopped. She didn't know why she was so nervous and she swiped her palms down the skirt of her gown.

"Shall we adjourn to our chamber my lady wife?" he asked, pleasant enough on the surface, but the undertones didn't bode well.

She nodded and moved to the stairs, her heart pounding.

Robin fell into step right behind her. He followed her up the stairs, around the landing, and into their chamber and closed the door behind himself and leaned against it.

He regarded her for a few moments. She stood still, returning his gaze, gripping handfuls of her gown and looking a bit apprehensive, but prepared to have a conversation. This was not the Marian of old. He could see that now. But he'd been so scared and worried when she was nowhere to be found, and he hated feeling that way. They'd done it for so long and he wasn't doing it any more.

"Now, Marian, pray tell what you were doing at Matilda's that you were there for such a long time."

"We were talk—"

"You expect me to believe that?"

"Yes, of course I do. I've never lied to you. Why would you think otherwise? Ask her."

He nodded. "So what did you talk about, then, that was so intriguing that it took four hours to discuss." It's not that he didn't think folks could chat for that long, but Matilda and Marian had little in common.

She hesitated and then took a breath and said, "We talked about me and you and our marriage..." Her gaze was steady.

A single brow rose. "With Matilda?" he asked, surprised.

"Of course, Matilda. She's known me since I was a little girl, delivered you and both of our children, and seen more of life than I could ever imagine."

Fair enough, he thought and nodded. But that still didn't explain one thing. "Where's your satchel? Where was it and why did you take it with you?"

Marian started and Robin's stomach sank. That wasn't a good sign.

"Beg pardon?" she asked, grabbing fistfuls of skirt.

"You heard me."

She nodded, her gaze never wavering. "It's in the barn. I'd been looking for my writing things. Remember?"

It was his turn to nod. "Wait—if you found them, how did you end up at Matilda's all afternoon, and why didn't you bring it in the house?"

"I didn't think about it. I'd been gone for so long already; I just threw the reins to Peter and hurried to the house. The bag was hooked across the saddle."

Robin nodded again. "But why were you at Matilda's to begin with?"

He saw her chest rise and fall with the breath she took. "I found something else in the bag...a journal I'd been keeping since we discovered I was having Ellie."

Marian moved to sit on the edge of their bed and, again, grabbed handfuls of her skirt. "I learned a little about our life from that point on—the good harvest, the trip to the castle, Claire's birthday, Christmas, the heavy snows...."

"Go on." What did all of that have to do with this?

"Well..."

Robin's heart sank. If she was so hesitant to talk, it couldn't be good.

"Being cooped up in the manor really affected me, and then when I had the early pains and had to stay abed...it became worse. I was a bit mad, I think. And when Ellie was born and she was a girl, I was so disappointed and angry, as well. And I thought you were too—"

"That's poppycock! I don't care about boys or girls, Marian. You know that—you know _me_. How could you think that?"

She jumped to her feet. "I'm sorry, Robin. I wasn't all the way right in my mind. I could tell from reading. Matilda says she's seen it before...calls it the after-baby doldrums. I was so sad and angry and confused all at the same time. I didn't know how to handle it so I rode...."

She'd started pacing as she spoke and then she suddenly turned to look at him as if something had just occurred to her. "Oh, no...oh, Robin...I'm so sorry." She rushed to him and threw her arms around him. "You thought..."

His arms encircled her as well. "I was so worried. You were gone for so long—just like you used to be—and I thought...I thought your memories had come back and that you were...the way you were before. And I was angry and scared. And I was mad that I was mad because I know it's not something you can control, and Claire was asking after you and I didn't know what to tell her."

He buried his face in her neck.

They stood that way for quite some time and Marian reveled in the feel of his arms around her, inhaled his unique scent of man and sunshine and peppermint. A smell she hadn't realized she'd missed until this very minute. He'd always smelt this way before he'd left for the Holy Land, but not since his return and becoming outlawed.

Longing rushed through her and she hugged him closer. His arms tightened about her waist in response.

Eventually, he pressed a kiss to her neck and then trailed kisses up to and along her jaw, sending shivers through her. His hand slid up her back and, even through her gown, the heat of them seared her. His fingers tunneled into her hair and angled her head for a kiss.

She had to tell him. She knew that now. She didn't know how, but he had to know. Had to be prepared. Needed to know what his real Marian had been thinking and feeling and what Matilda had said.

"Marian," he murmured against her lips and slid his tongue along the seam. She opened for him. Their tongues slipped and slid along each other.

Marian's pulse picked up speed and tendrils of want spread through her. She wanted this more than anything, but still wasn't sure if she should.

She felt his hardness growing against her belly.

He ended the kiss and rested his forehead against hers, both of them breathing heavily. "I want to make love to my wife..." he said.

The pleading and wanting in his voice broke her heart and decimated her resolve to resist him. Or tell him the rest right this very minute.

"I want...I want you, too..." she whispered. He'd find out soon enough.

**To be continued…**


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood, Robin, Marian, Guy, et al; I have earned nothing from this endeavor but the joy that comes from the writing and the possibility of a nice comment or two.

Author's Note: This chapter is a combined, condensed and clean version of chapters twenty and twenty-one. As per the rules of this fan fiction archive, I have not posted sexually explicit content. If you want to read the love scene in all its full unadulterated glory, please go to my LiveJournal account and read it there. The link is in my profile.

**Marian: Through the Looking Glass, Chapter Twenty**

Guy paced the great room of Locksley Manor.

He'd been to see Marian earlier and could not help the feeling of foreboding that followed him home. She looked fine. A bit better than the last time he'd visited, although how was difficult to pinpoint. He'd spent a few minutes alone with her and she seemed to have responded to his voice.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, Guy held her hand and talked to her and she'd turned her head in his direction as he spoke.

His heart had leapt to his throat and he waited, hoping she'd open her eyes. But nothing further happened.

Her father had been cautiously encouraging.

Guy stopped and took a good look about the room. There were none of the little things that made a house a home. And it was a stolen home no less.

Not that he had a problem with that, on general principal, but if he married Marian, then he'd being bringing Hood's former sweetheart into Hood's former home. Guy wasn't so sure how Marian would feel about that. He didn't know how he felt about that. Would she constantly be imagining Hood and what life would have been like here with him? Guy did have a problem with that.

Robin returned to Marian's bedside from his day in the forest. He climbed in through the window as he'd done each night for the last fortnight.

_Dearest, I'm home..._

He shook his head and chuckled.

Him staying with Marian was probably the worst kept secret at Knighton. Not that anyone saw him—except for Daniel that one morning. They could all truthfully claim they'd never seen Robin. He never asked for food, although someone left the occasional apple or hunk of bread on the sideboard, which he gratefully consumed. Much did the best he could, but Robin always took the smallest helping he could get away with. Much and John were bigger men with heartier appetites and needed more food.

Robin took Marian's hand as he did every night and kissed it. "Marian, my love, please wake up. You're starting to worry me. It's been almost three weeks since the accident. We need you back. _I_ need you back."

She curled her fingers around his hand and turned her head toward him.

Excitement shot through him. "Marian, can you hear me?"

She sighed.

Robin looked at her—really looked at her. It was a different sound from the ones she'd made previously. "Marian?"

Her head lolled back and forth and she whimpered, taking three fast breaths.

Surely, she wasn't in pain. According to Matilda, the ankle had just about healed, and Marian hadn't made any kind of noise the other day when Matilda had rolled it around to assess it.

Marian moaned...a low, breathy moan.

Robin's heart stopped and he stood and looked at her again. Closely.

Her cheeks were a bit flushed and her breathing shallow.

That wasn't pain, that was pleasure.

Marian gripped the bedclothes as another sound of pleasure filled the quiet.

Marian was dreaming. Marian was...

She was being made love to.

_What the hell?_

How the hell did she know anything about love making? Anger bubbled in Robin's gut. _He_ hadn't touched her. Never like that. That meant one thing: _Gisborne._ Robin would kill him. As soon as dawn broke, he was heading straight for the castle.

No, forget the morning. He'd go there now and cut the man's—

"Robin..." she mewled, her legs moving restlessly beneath her blanket.

Robin froze. She called his name?

_No._ There was no way...they'd never gone far enough for her to be having dreams like that.

Her breath came in soft pants now and her head rolled back and forth again.

_Bloody hell._

He leaned close to her ear. "Marian. Wake up."

She turned her face toward his voice. "Robiiin..."

He kissed her. He couldn't help it.

She responded to the pressure of his lips against hers.

Desire shot straight to his groin.

This was mad.

He jumped back—this wasn't right.

Fear and confusion raced though him. He could hardly believe what he was seeing, what he was hearing. He was disgusted with himself for being aroused by her in this moment, but he'd imagined making love to her so many times, and it seemed as if he was doing just that in her dreams.

But he didn't understand how that could be.

The sounds of her and her movements in the bed were more than he could bear and he slipped back out the window and crept into the barn loft.

Gazing up at the almost full moon, Robin forced his thoughts to the gang and how they were doing in the evenings without him. They seemed to be holding their own.

He tried to think about what life would have been like had he not gone to the Holy Land. He'd certainly still have his lands and title. He'd never have met Allan or Little John or Djaq. Will would be just another Locksley peasant.

Would Edward still be the sheriff? Would he and Marian have married? Would they have had children by now?

Robin's thoughts returned to Marian and he didn't fight it. He imagined holding her in his arms, feeling her body beneath him, her skin sliding against his. Hearing her call his name in a passion-filled whisper. Hearing her whimper in pleasure and shattering beneath him.

He fought the urge as long as he could, but he finally gave in to the need and unlaced his breeches.

Marian allowed Robin to maneuver her backwards toward the bed, their kisses frantic and heated and messy. His hands were all over her. Her breasts, her arms, her belly, her backside. Her hands gripped his shoulders, slid into the curls at his neck, held him close.

Delicious sensations rushed through her. Want. Need. Heat. Chills. Lust.

Love.

Yes, she loved him. Loved this Robin as much as she loved her own. Did she want to get back to her own life and her own Robin? Yes, she did; with all her heart, despite the hardship and struggle and conflict that awaited her. Would she ever make it back? That was the question. But she couldn't not live this life until that happened. If it was a day, a week, a month, or a year. She had to live this life and love this man as if it were forever.

There was no stopping this and she surrendered to it. But things were moving a little too fast. She needed time to lose herself in the moment, to get past that last niggling doubt that she really was doing the right thing.

She broke the kiss, leaving them both breathing hard. "Robin...can we...slow down? It's been so long...can we pretend it's our first time?"

"I don't know if I can hold out that long," he said softly.

Did he mean what she thought he meant? The memory of the night she'd spied on him, on what he'd done, flashed through her mind. Embarrassment heated her face, excitement sent a rush of pleasure through her and settled in her woman's place. "It d-doesn't matter does it?" she asked, her voice shaky. "We can...make love more than one time, c-can't we?"

Mercy. Had she really just asked that?

Robin merely nodded, his look heating.

And what had Matilda said? Be playful and do a lot of touching. Maybe if there was enough touching, she could relax a bit and shed her lingering timidity. "You once mentioned other ways of...of..."

His eyes widened and darkened. His mouth opened and closed. Twice.

She smiled, her heart thumping against her ribs. She'd rendered him speechless—not an easy feat.

In a hoarse voice, he finally asked, "You are no longer...averse?"

Her amusement faded as she remembered her other self's written words of hesitance and then revulsion. Feelings she'd made perfectly clear to him.

Love welled within her and she shook her head. "No, I..." Her voice was a mere whisper—as if that it made it easier to speak. "I find myself..." Reaching out, she clasped her hands at the back of Robin's neck. She'd loved Robin for so long. She wanted to show him how much. She wanted to be with him. To know what it was to give herself to him, to love him in that way and be loved in return. "...just wanting to be close to you. In any way, in all ways..."

"Marian," he murmured against her lips, kissing her again. His hands roamed her back, igniting sparks wherever he touched.

But this wasn't her Robin. The thought flashed through her mind and she groaned. Was she back to this? She pushed her worry and doubts and arguments aside. She wanted this, no matter which Robin it was. She _did_. She would deal the consequences later. If she returned to her own life. She forced everything from her mind, but him.

Sometime later, as they caught their breaths, Robin rested his head against her chest and placed a kiss over her heart. Then he disengaged from her body and settled next to her.

The musky scent of sex... of them ...teased his nose. The room was darker, more gray than golden now, several candles having burned out.

Robin pulled her into his arms and buried his nose in her neck. "I love you, my lady wife."

"And I you, my lord husband."

**To be continued...**


	21. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood, Robin, Marian,at al. I have earned nothing from this endeavor but the joy that comes from the writing and the possibility of a nice comment or two.

**Marian: Through the Looking Glass, Chapter Twenty-one**

The following morning, Marian woke to sunlight streaming in through the open windows. The room was warm, but pleasantly so. She stretched and blinked against the brightness. She knew without turning to look that Robin was no longer in the bed with her. Of course not, it was a Wednesday morning and he had visits to make.

Still, he might have wakened her on this of all mornings to say goodbye. It hurt a little that now that they'd finally made love; that he just went off and left her. As if it wasn't a huge thing for her. Surely, he'd realize that she'd need something from him this morning.

Her eyes watered, but she sniffed back the tears. She didn't want to cry. And maybe he didn't realize…he'd made love to his Marian many, many times. Maybe to him, it was just like it used to be. Just another morning after. And she couldn't really blame him. He was more sensitive than that—she knew that. But still, even though he believed her to be _his_ Marian, he knew this was a big step for her. She'd made no secret of it.

Rolling to his side of the bed, Marian gasped and burst into tears. On his pillow were a handful of blue irises tied with a white ribbon. A small note sat beside them.

She picked up the note first and read it:

_My dearest Marian,_

_These remind of your eyes, so filled with love and wonder._

_They remind me of you, so strong and beautiful._

_I shall carry the vision of you with me throughout the day._

_Until I return, I remain…_

_Your loving husband, R_

Tears of happiness filled her eyes and trickled down her cheeks and into the blooms as she held them to her nose and inhaled their faint scent. How could she have doubted him?

She swiped a hand across her wet cheeks and looked out the window; the sky suddenly looked a brighter blue and the early morning birdsong seemed a bit merrier. She flushed in pleasure as she thought of last night, of their coupling. It was everything she'd imagined and more. And yet, deep down, she didn't feel any different, only a bit achy in certain private places. She was no longer a maid in either of her lives that she was part of. And she was glad of it.

Wasn't she?

Shouldn't she feel more alive or joyous or s_omething_? But what?

Her stomach began to churn a bit and she swallowed. She'd been so sure before. She'd wanted to know what it was like to be with a man—with Robin. And now she knew. It was wonderful.

But she thought it would be more life-altering. That she would find relief and a certain amount of gladness in no longer being a maid. And perhaps peace, or comfort, and even knowledge.

Well, yes, she had some knowledge now, but she also had second thoughts. Had making love with Robin really been the right thing to do?

She considered her situation—stuck in a life that was not hers to begin with, but that could well end up being her only life for the rest of her life and married to a man she loved—although a different version of him—a passionate man who loved her and wanted to show that love in the marriage bed.

She'd hadn't a choice, really; if not last night then it would have been some other night and soon.

And even if it wasn't completely the right thing, it was still the only thing she could have done.

Wasn't it?

_But this was not her Robin_. That thought caught her unaware and bothered her. More than she anticipated. She had not saved herself for _her_ Robin. She suddenly felt out of sorts and unfaithful. Both were unexpected and unwelcome. How was she to know when or _if_ she would ever return to her own life. This poor Robin would not understand if he had to continue his married life without making love to his wife. And she would be out of reasons to keep him at bay. It would not be a happy situation for either of them.

She looked at the flowers and became teary once more.

What had she done?

What was she going to do?

The next three days simultaneously rushed by and dragged. Every spare thought had been filled with the situation she'd gotten herself into and how she was going to handle it.

Marian paced the length of the ladies chamber once again, humming to a fussing Ellie. It was Ellie's third night sleeping back at home and the third night of fighting to get her to actually go to sleep. Marian had never known what it took to get a baby to bed each evening, and she found it quite frustrating. As did Ellie, no doubt.

Marian had been close to tears herself the last two nights, but once Robin had taken her to bed, he'd made her forget about everything but him. It seemed she was hapless to resist Robin's charms or his kisses or his heated touch. Each afternoon, he'd brought home tokens of his affection and then wooed her into the marriage bed each night.

And despite the unease that continued to niggle at the back her mind, she let him. She found a great deal of pleasure in the marriage bed. More than she imagined. But she knew she could not continue on in good conscience. Her knowledge hung over her like a black cloud and she _had_ to tell Robin her story, even if he did not believe her. He had to be prepared just in case the day came that his real Marian returned. And she had to leave a message for her other self in her journal, as well. She would not be able to live this life, for as long as she was here, in full joy and utmost happiness if she did not do these things.

Robin was a skilled and tender lover, playful and adventurous, and she blushed again at some of the things he'd suggested. And now that she'd done it, she did not think she would like to go without either. She'd released most of her inhibitions and tried some—but not all—of his ideas. Marian was honest, as Matilda had advised, about what she was not yet ready or willing to try. Robin had taken her seriously and had not pushed. She even had an idea of her own, which Robin had delighted in trying out, much to their mutual enjoyment.

A howl from Ellie brought Marian back to reality. She really did not want to go through such drama each and every night. It wasn't fair to any of them, especially Ellie, so this morning, Marian had sought out Matilda for help. She was both relieved and nervous about Matilda's advice.

"I thought Mary said she went down easy?" Robin asked, coming into the ladies chamber. He'd been going over the estate ledgers.

"I'm sure she did at Mary's. She is not used to us putting her to bed. She is not used to this room. And Mary had something I do not. It will take some time," Marian said as she made another slow pass across the room. She murmured nonsense words to Ellie, shifting her from one shoulder to the other, but nothing seemed to help. Ellie rubbed her fists in her eyes and against her nose. Instead of calming, she became fussier.

"Perhaps I should get Mary," Robin suggested, moving toward the door.

"No," Marian said.

Robin stopped and looked at her. "Why not?"

"Because we cannot go running to Mary every night. Ellie is our child and it's time for us to care for her and deal with her. Mary has done enough. Besides Matilda said it is not hunger that she seeks to assuage, but is in need of comfort. I...I know what to do."

"What?"

Marian handed the baby to Robin, who then cried even harder, and unfastened her gown. Robin's brow rose in surprise as he jiggled Ellie up and down and Marian's own heart pounded in trepidation. She took a seat in the chair and held out her hands.

"You cannot nurse her. You said yourself—you have no milk."

"It is not about the milk—it is about the...sucking." She felt the heat rise in her face at her words. "Babies find comfort in it. Matilda said some babies need it more than others."

Robin shook his head, but placed Ellie back into Marian's arms. "I do not know about this..."

Marian settled Ellie in the crook of her right arm. Ellie's cries abated and she turned her head toward Marian's breast and rooted around for something to latch onto. When she was not successful, she began to fuss once more, squirming and kicking her feet in impatience and frustration. Glancing at Robin, Marian pushed aside her uncertainty and her gown, revealing her breast and placing it at Ellie's mouth. The baby grabbed a hold of the nipple, causing Marian to wince, and began sucking. She settled down within a few moments and Marian felt her relax.

The sensation was an odd one, and a bit uncomfortable, but the sight of Ellie at her breast, eyes closed in what must be baby bliss with her tiny fist curled up next to her mouth, brought tears to Marian's eyes. She could hardly wait to be a mother herself. To do this for real. To provide sustenance and comfort for a tiny life. A life she created and nurtured inside her.

Within ten minutes, Ellie was asleep. Her mouth slackened and released Marian's breast. Marian glanced at Robin who looked equally entranced, although, Marian thought, for a wholly different reason. Her nipple tightened under his gaze.

Gently, she tugged her bodice over her breast and stood slowly and placed Ellie in her cradle, tucking a light blanket around her. With a feather light brush across the fine hair on Ellie's head, Marian straightened up and caught Robin looking at her, his expression a mixture of wonder and surprise and desire.

"Marian, I..."

She held a finger to her lips and turned toward the door. He followed her to their bedchamber, pulled her into his arms, and backed her up against the closed door.

He pressed kisses to her face and neck and shoulder and then continued down the skin of her chest that peeked from the deep V of her open bodice.

Sensation rushed through her and made her light headed.

He pushed aside the fabric and cupped her breast, kissing the pale slope. "I have never seen you do that. It was amazing and wonderful and—"

Desire rushed through her as he communicated his want of her quite effectively, stealing her breath with a deep kiss. His hands worked at pulling up the skirt of her gown and then slid along the bare length of her thighs to cup her backside and nestle himself against her.

Her breath came in shallow pants now and she wanted to feel him inside her; she clutched the shoulders of his tunic, tugging him closer, arching into him, moaning his name in pleasure.

His hands fumbled between them at the laces of his breeches. "God, Marian, you have never acted with such abandon. I ache for you, my love."

His words brought a reminder, but of what, she could not bring into focus. She remembered that it was urgent, that she wasn't going to give in to him—to _this_ again before they spoke.

Marian yanked her mouth from his and pushed on his shoulders. "Robin, wait, please...stop."

As much as she wanted him, wanted to follow this encounter to its inevitable and passionate conclusion, she had to stop. It was one of the hardest things she'd ever done. Her heart pounded, her body so ready for him.

"What is wrong?" he asked on a gasp, his eyes unfocused and hazy with need. He tried to kiss her again. "I want you so much right now."

"And I you, my lord husband..." She, too, needed air and took several deep breaths to calm her racing heart before she spoke.

"Robin...we must talk. There is something I have to tell you."

"Can it not wait till later? Or tomorrow." He tugged her closer again and kissed her shoulder.

"Robin, please, listen to me."

Something in her voice must have made an impression. He let her go and stepped back, looking at her, his chest heaving as he inhaled. "Is something wrong? You are making me worried now."

"Yes, well..." Straightening her gown and fastening up her bodice, she took a few steps and then turned back. She took a breath. "...what I have to say may sound completely mad. In fact, I know it will." _She_ was mad. Of that there was no doubt. To have put a stop to one of the most passionate encounters they'd shared to tell him she was not his wife was pure, utter madness.

He stood there with his breeches still partially undone and she wanted to scream. Wanted to forget herself in his arms. But she could not.

"Marian, what are you talking about?" He stood, hands on hips, and looked at her expectantly.

"I'm talking about me."

"What about you?"

She another deep breath and said, "I am...I am not your wife."

**To be continued...**


	22. Chapter 22

Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood, Robin, Marian, et al. I have earned nothing but the joy that comes from the writing and the possibility of a nice comment or two.

**Marian: Through the Looking Glass, Chapter Twenty-two**

Robin awoke and looked over at Marian. She lay still, as she had done for the last several weeks. He was beginning to despair of her ever waking up and returning to him.

He rolled toward her and gathered her into his arms.

"Good morning, my love," he said, kissing her cheek and then her mouth. "It is a lovely day. Perhaps you'd like to wake up and enjoy it."

She sighed and snuggled into his embrace.

His heart soared. _She'd reacted._ He clutched her tighter. "Marian, Marian. _Wake up_."

She mumbled something into his chest, but when he looked at her, she was just as she had been before.

He took in her face; her smooth skin, full lips, high cheekbones. He willed her to open her eyes so he could see their blue depths once more. "C'mon, Marian, _please_." He jiggled her a bit, but she remained unresponsive.

But it was a direct reaction, no? It seemed as if there was finally some sign that she really was going to wake up at some point. Slipping from the bed, he donned his clothes. After giving her a sweet kiss to the forehead and lips, he disappeared out the window, more hopeful than he'd been in a while.

Marian took another deep breath and said, "I am...I am not your wife."

Robin raised a brow and looked slightly amused. "You look like my wife and you sound like my wife. And you know what they say...if it looks like a duck and sounds like a duck, it must be a duck."

She sighed. She couldn't blame him. It sounded daft, even to her own ears. She shook her head, dropping her chin to her chest as she did so. "This is not coming out right." She met his gaze once more. "The accident. It all started then. When I woke up, I had no memories—_still_ have no memories—of our life, our marriage, our daughters."

"Go on." He'd lost the sarcasm at least. His gaze bore into hers.

Swallowing, she said, "Well...it's not really that I can't remember...I've come to believe it's because I never had the memories to begin with. I _am_ Marian, but...a version of her from a different life, a different _reality_, if you will."

Now Robin shook his head. "That is rubbish. Those kinds of things can't happen. _Don't_ happen, Marian. I don't understand why you stopped this—" With his hands, he indicated her and himself and the door. "—to tell me these things."

She didn't either. A remnant of her desire remained, pulsing in her belly.

She sighed again. Yes, she did. "Because some day, somehow, I may return to my life and your Marian is going to return home, return _here_, and she will be the Marian you remember. _Your_ real Marian. She will be distant and confused and emotional in ways that I am not. She will not let you make love to her every night or take her against the door as I almost did—_wanted_ to do." Her voice dropped to a whisper with her last words, the thought of it thrilling her still. A bit of heat rushed to her cheeks.

Heat flared in his eyes at her admission, but then he blinked and shook his head in confusion.

She understood his feelings. But she needed to tell him, try to make him understand. Only then could she continue to accept his love and return it without guilt for however long she remained in this version of her life. "You have said it yourself several times that I am different. That is why. That is why I do not remember the girls. Because I did not give birth to them. Why I could not nurse Ellie when I first woke up...I have no milk."

His confusion transformed into displeasure, and she accepted that, too.

He asked, "And you expect me to believe this tale you are telling? To believe that there are alternate versions of our lives and that we can go back and forth between them?"

"I didn't expect you to believe me, actually. In fact, I knew you would scoff. And if I were you and somebody told me what I have told you, I would be just as disbelieving. And, no, I do not believe that we can go back and forth at will; otherwise I would have already gone back to my real life."

Robin was quiet for a few moments, holding her gaze, seeming to consider what she had said. "And where is _my_ Marian, then, if you are not her?"

She knew better than to think that he now accepted her story. A trace of mockery remained in his voice. This was more like her Robin. She shrugged. "I do not know. She may be in my life, but I suppose if there are two realities there could also be more."

He shook his head and let out a small sarcastic laugh. "Marian, have you been eating the wild mushrooms?"

Gone was her passion. Completely gone. Heat suffused her. She felt it radiate outward from her belly, to her hands and feet and then it bloomed in her face. "How dare you?" she snapped.

Her vehemence surprised him and his grin faded. "Marian, really..."

She pointed a finger. "_No_. I have _never_ lied to you. Never been one to make up tales, much less buy into them. You, more than anyone, should _know_ me. You _know_ that I do not believe in fairies and goblins and such. You wound me with your derision."

"But surely you cannot expect me to believe what you have told me."

"I know it is far-fetched and unlikely but I expect you to give me the benefit of the doubt."

"I need some sort of proof."

"Proof?" Now it was her turn to scoff. "Would your Marian be arguing with you like this?"

He stopped for a moment, caught off guard. "Not before, but it is possible that the blow to your head when you fell from your horse knocked some fortitude into you."

She threw her hands up in disbelief. "Then it must have knocked the rest of my new traits into me as well—the happiness, the surge of motherly affection, the enjoyment of our intimate relations—and knocked the milk right out of me. Your theory is flawed."

"It is no more ridiculous than what you are saying."

Marian let out a loud cry of frustration. The man was stubborn. That certainly wasn't different. "Well, how 'bout this: there is no proof of God and yet you attend Mass every Sunday."

"That is different."

"How is it different? From childhood you were taught there is a God and that He created all things. And you accepted what you were told. Now I am telling you that I am not your true wife but a version of her and you will not believe me. I have never lied to you. Nor do I think your Marian has lied, and yet you won't even consider that I am telling the truth."

"I do not think you are lying, Marian, and believing in God and believing you are right about this are two different things."

"_Are they_? You believe that God created the universe and everything in it, yet you cannot accept that, perhaps, in a mad twist of the universe's known rules, this could happen?"

Robin shrugged, let out a breath, and allowed his shoulders to sag. "It is _very_ far-fetched."

"I don't deny that. And some might think God creating man out of dust also a bit hard to chew."

"So, what then, Marian?"

"Wait—perhaps I _can_ prove it."

"How?"

"Well, your Marian has given birth to two children, has she not?"

He nodded.

"And she has marks on her body—her belly, where the skin stretched, yes?"

"Faint ones, yes."

"Well, I have no such marks." She tugged at her skirt, pushing aside her slight discomfiture. "Where are her marks?"

He ran his fingers along his own body, across his hip bones and backwards where a woman's hips would be.

Marian peeled back her shift. "Look. Do you see anything?"

Stepping closer, he bent and peered at her flesh, slipping his fingers along the edge of her under-wrappings to reveal more of her skin.

She shivered at his intimate touch despite their current animosity.

He stood up, looking a bit perplexed, but said, "You could be putting some kind of potion or ointment on there to remove or fade them."

"_Gah!_—you think it would only take a few weeks?"

"You could have been doing it before the accident."

"You believe your wife to be that vain?"

"I find that I do not know my wife any longer," he said softly, crossing his arms and looking sad all of a sudden. "It has been almost half a year since I knew my wife, in any way—until three weeks ago, until a week ago. And now you tell me that the wife I have begun to know again and to enjoy and to...fall in love with again...is not really my wife."

Marian's anger deflated as well. She didn't know whether to take him in her arms or to leave him be. She wrung her hands together and walked toward him. "It isn't my intention to hurt you or to make you doubt your feelings, but I couldn't allow you to go on thinking that our life, as lovely and wonderful as it currently is, could last forever. There is a chance, unlikely though it seems at this point, that the universe will correct its fluke and return us all to our rightful lives. I just wanted you to know so that if it ever happens you will understand."

"I don't understand now."

"It doesn't matter if you understand now."

"You're not making any sense."

"I know." She sighed again.

"So...you interrupted our lovemaking to tell me some nonsense I don't have to understand right now."

"It is not nonsense."

"It is nonsense."

"Just because you don't understand something does not make it nonsense."

"I never claimed it did. But this—"

"Enough. I get it." She held up a hand. "I'm going to check on Ellie." She headed for the door.

"Do not be angry."

"Do _not_ tell me how I should feel. I _am_ angry and I should like to remove myself from you for a moment to regain my composure."

"You can't be angry because I don't believe you."

"I am not angry because you don't believe me."

"Well, then, I don't understand."

"It seems to a running theme tonight." With that, she turned on her heel and left the chamber.

"Marian," he called stringently after her, though he kept his voice low.

But she ignored him. Of all the cheek.

The following day was a bit disconcerting for Marian. She and Robin had never gone to bed at odds and she really did not care to do it again. She'd lain down with Claire for a bit and when she finally returned to their chamber, Robin was already asleep. She'd been both relieved and annoyed.

When she'd awoken this morning, he'd been gone and she spent the morning and afternoon worrying about what would happen when he returned home. A small cold ball of nerves bounced around her belly all day.

They hadn't really had a fight. Neither of them was right or wrong. And that was part of the problem. She'd been right to tell him and he'd been justifiably upset at having their lovemaking interrupted and confused about what she'd tried to tell him.

But she couldn't stand the wait. The girls were napping and, try as she might, Marian could not keep her mind on her embroidery.

The clop of hooves in the courtyard caught her attention and her heart leaped into her throat. Robin's instructions to Peter floated through the window to her and a few moments later, he stepped through the door.

"My l-lord husband," she said, the words sticking in her throat from nerves.

"Lady wife." He'd come to a standstill and was looking at her, his gaze making her nervous. She could not read him.

"I want to apologize for last night—"

"I'm sorry—"

They spoke at the same time and then stopped.

Tears of surprise stung her eyes, but she blinked them away. She was a bit taken aback that he was willing to apologize. Normally, he was very stubborn about it. Well, her Robin was, but he wasn't her Robin.

She hurried toward him and he moved toward her and they met halfway, and he took her in his arms.

"I am sorry I did not come back to bed before you fell asleep last night," she said into his neck.

"And I am sorry for acting like an ass." He kissed her cheek. "I still do not really understand what you told me, but I realize that you felt it was important, for surely you would not have put a halt to our lovemaking otherwise."

She shook her head within the space between his shoulder and jaw where she'd tucked it, but then looked up at him. She cupped his cheek. "It was one of the hardest things I've ever done," she whispered.

"Well, perhaps we can try it again this evening." His voice was low and sent a shiver through her. His eyes flickered and he leaned in and kissed her. The heat rose quickly and easily between them as it always seemed to and they stood there like a pair of young lovers and continued kissing.

"Ma ma m—Da da da!" shrieked Claire.

Robin and Marian broke apart with twin groans to look at Claire who now clambered down the stairs. She rushed Robin and he swung her into his arms.

She squealed with delight as he did so.

"Claire, my love, how are you this fine day?" he asked, winking at Marian.

Marian's stomach fluttered in joy and want.

"I am well, Da da da," Claire said.

"Are you, now?" he said with a chuckle, giving her a kiss as well.

Claire nodded. "Ellie is awake, too, Ma ma ma."

Marian smiled. "Of course she is," she said before heading toward the stairs.

The next several days passed in relative calm and peaceful co-existence. Their lovemaking resumed and Marian lived in a chronic state of happiness. On Saturday morning while Robin was out and Marian bathed the girls, it suddenly occurred to her that she hadn't had her courses in quite some time. She'd have to go back and count the days.

**To be continued…**


	23. Chapter 23

Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood, Robin, Marian, et al. I have earned nothing but the joy that comes from the writing and the possibility of a nice comment or two.

**Marian: Through the Looking Glass, Chapter Twenty-three**

Robin cleaned himself up, got dressed and went to check on the girls. He'd left her to take care of her woman's business alone, as she requested, with a sweet kiss to her forehead, nose and mouth.

He was so gentle and tender and understanding. She sighed and looked down at herself and the streaks of red and pink on her thighs. She'd _bled_.

Marian was both relieved and vaguely disappointed. However, now was not the time to have a baby. Not until she felt reasonably certain that she would be here awhile. Or forever.

_But how can you ever know that for sure? s_he wondered as she washed herself.

She couldn't, of course. So how did she keep from becoming with child for a time? It's not that she didn't want a baby, because she did. Especially after having Ellie at her breast the other night. But on the chance she returned home to her Robin any time soon, a pregnancy was certainly a complication she didn't need.

Well, another conversation with Robin was most certainly in order. He would understand, she was sure, but be disappointed. _She_ was disappointed. She enjoyed their relations. Well, _more_ than enjoyed them, she thought, heat creeping up her face. It seemed she was as eager for bed time each evening as the dog for his supper. Did that make her a harlot?

She shook her head. She refused to believe that. Besides, Robin did not seem to mind her enthusiasm for the marriage bed. He seemed quite pleased, actually.

Robin was as happy and content as a man could possibly be. And his girls were beautiful and in high spirits.

The afternoon was gorgeous. The sun sat high in a cloudless blue sky and there was a slight breeze. The treetops swayed in the wind. Temperatures were warm, but not overly so.

They'd attended Mass this morning and, on the way home, decided to picnic at Lovers Pond. Claire had been beside herself with excitement when they told her. She now buzzed like a bee from flower to log to pond, looking at everything and asking a baker's dozen questions. The mid-day meal had been fit for a king and the remains had been packed up into the large basket.

He and Marian sat on a blanket in the shade of a large tree. Robin bounced Ellie on his knees and she gurgled with baby happiness as she looked about at the world around her.

"Robin... we need to talk about something."

"What's that?" he asked, glancing at her. She sounded a bit unsure.

"Another child."

He looked at her and shook his head. "I do not think that a good idea."

She exhaled in relief. "Nor do I. At least, not at the moment."

"Then what is there to talk about?"

"Well... the means by which we are going to avoid getting me with child. Unless you plan to go without until we decide it's time for the next one."

"Ah."

"Yes."

"I don't really want to go without."

"I didn't think you would. I talked with Matilda yesterday," Marian said, returning Claire's excited wave.

"Oh? And what suggestions did she have?"

"Well... our first option is, of course, abstinence."

Robin groaned but grinned. "I told you I do not care much for that idea." Of course, there _were_ other ways to find pleasure than the traditional one. Never-the-less, he found it most satisfying. Not necessarily from a physical perspective, but from an emotional one. To hold her close, look into her eyes and feel her surround him—that's when he felt most closely connected to her.

"Ma ma ma, Ma ma ma, you can't catch me!" yelled Claire.

It was Marian's turn to groan, but she smiled and got to her feet. "Oh, yes, I can," she called back and then took off after Claire, who shrieked in delight.

Robin smiled at the sight of them, his two girls, so much alike. And then there was the baby. He kissed the back of her head and she turned to look at him with shining eyes and slobbery grin. He turned her around to face him. "Hello, princess."

Ellie waved her arms and made happy baby noises at him. She was warm and cuddly and sweet. His insides turned to mush as he considered his little family. He was the luckiest man in England. The three most beautiful women in the world belonged to him. Love welled inside him, so much that it almost hurt. If he lost any of them, he'd be devastated.

A sharp cry stopped his heart and he looked up. Marian lay on the ground and Claire ran toward her. Robin set Ellie down on her stomach on the blanket and rushed to Marian.

Claire was squatting next to Marian, patting her arm. "Ma ma ma, wake up."

_Oh, sweet mercy, please, no..._

"Go sit with your sister," he ordered and pointed.

Her eyes widened at his harsh tone.

He shook his head quickly. "I am sorry, Claire. I am not angry, but I need you to sit with Ellie while I care for Ma ma ma, all right?"

She nodded and two tears slid down her cheeks.

He planted a quick kiss to her forehead. "Go, please."

She moved off toward the blanket and Robin dropped to his knees beside Marian. He breathed a sigh of relief when her lashes fluttered open.

"Robin?" she said sounding confused and looking dazed.

His relief was short lived. "Are you all right?" he asked, a ball of fear lodged in his chest. He looked her over, but she didn't appear to be hurt anywhere. There was no blood, at any rate. "How's your head?"

Blinking several times, she put a hand to her head. "I-I'm fine..." she said and struggled to sit up. "Where's Claire, is she hurt?"

With a soft whoosh of his breath, he grabbed her and hugged her fiercely. "Thank heavens." He released her and stood, holding out his hands and helping her up.

He kept his arm around her as they walked to the blanket and the girls.

"I am fine," she insisted.

"I know, just humor me."

She wrapped her arm around his waist in return and smiled up at him.

He leaned in and kissed her.

Claire jumped to her feet and raced to Marian and hugged her around the legs. "Did you get hurted?"

Marian stroked Claire's hair and chuckled. "No, my love, I am not hurt."

"Da da da and me was scared."

Marian's gaze met Robin's. She saw the lingering traces of his fear. Why would he be—oh, of course. Considering the way she got here, it would now be an issue every time she had some sort of accident. She sighed. Oh, dear... another consequence of the whole situation. "I am fine... I am still me."

"But which you?"

"Well, considering I am not asking all sorts of questions about where we are and what we are doing out here, I am the new me."

He nodded. "I am glad."

"I hope that if your real Marian returns, you do not plan to tell her that you are not happy to see her."

"No, I..." He shook his head. "Of course not."

They reached the blanket to find Ellie fast asleep, her little face flushed. "Perhaps we ought to return home," Robin said.

"That would require us to wake her to do so. Perhaps we should just relax here in the shade and catch our breath."

Marian grabbed the other blanket and spread it out.

"Claire, go lay down next to Ellie for a few minutes and rest, all right?"

"But I'm not tired."

"I know, my love, but Ma ma ma is, so I need you to let me rest for a few minutes."

With a heavy sigh, Claire did as she was told.

Marian sat down and Robin settled behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist one more. She crossed her arms over his. "I am fine, I promise."

"I know..." He sighed. "But I am afraid of the old you coming back."

She leaned her head back on one of Robin's shoulders and he kissed her now-exposed neck. Delight trickled through her.

"Why?"

"She is not... she is no longer playful."

Marian sighed. "If I go and she comes back then you will love her and you will help her learn to be playful once more. You will have your work cut out for you, but she is the one you married and you must have married her for a reason."

He nodded into her neck and then said, "I loved her with all my heart. She—_you_ were beautiful and sweet and fun and I have loved you almost since you and your father moved to Nottinghamshire some twelve years ago.

"I was nine years old. You were fifteen. You could not have loved a nine-year-old."

Robin chuckled. "No, I suppose not; but I was intrigued by a little girl who was spunky and mischievous and not afraid to get dirty or hurt. And yet you always looked like a little girl. And then you turned into a maid and, well... then I was lost."

"I had no idea..." she said, feeling warm inside; she wondered if any part of this story was true for her Robin. This description of her was more or less accurate.

His dread of his Marian returning was terribly sad, but there wasn't much she could do about it except to make sure her other self had the information she needed. Tomorrow she would get the journal and make sure everything the real Marian needed to know was written down. There was no time to lose, apparently, and she couldn't chance putting it off any longer.

"When... if... the old me returns, tell her to find her journal and read it. I will write myself a letter trying to explain, although she will probably understand some of what I am saying. Promise me, you will tell her. That you will remember to tell her."

"I promise."

Robin awoke to find himself tangled in Marian's arms and gown. A quite cozy place to be, he decided, and closed his eyes to enjoy the feeling just a bit longer. He tightened his arm about her and she snuggled closer to him.

He stilled, holding his breath. Was she finally awake? He jiggled her a little. "Marian? Are you awake?"

She sighed but did not speak. Did not open her eyes. Did not make any further movements.

Robin sighed as well, and then caught his breath in a realization. He had only rolled her to her right side and snuggled up behind her. He had not moved her any further during the night. He now lay on his back with her on her left side with her right leg and arm draped across his body. Her head rested on his shoulder and her face nestled into his neck.

Their current positions were a result of them shifting and moving in their sleep. Robin exhaled in relief and excitement. That could only mean one thing—she was coming back to him. Slowly to be sure, but she would awaken soon. He was sure of it.

He kissed her forehead. Marian would wake up and they would be married. He wouldn't take no for an answer and to hell with her betrothal to Gisborne. Robin would take Edward into the forest himself if it came to that or convince the man to move away. They had family somewhere. Marian had mentioned an aunt and uncle on several occasions.

The cock crowed beyond the shuttered window and with great reluctance and disappointment, Robin extricated himself from Marian's arms. He repositioned her onto her back and smoothed the bed clothes over her. He would talk to Edward that evening.

"I must go, my love." He kissed her quickly and headed for the window.


	24. Chapter 24

Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood, Robin, Marian, et al. I have earned nothing but the joy that comes from the writing and the possibility of a nice comment or two.

**Marian: Through the Looking Glass, Chapter Twenty-four**

Marian sat straight up in bed, blinking rapidly as she scanned the room. Her heart pounded and she clutched the bed clothes beneath her.

_No, no, no, no, no..._ She wasn't ready.

She closed her eyes for several second and then opened them again.

_No..._

This was not Locksley Manor. This was not her and Robin's bed chamber. This was not their bed. This was her room at Knighton.

She'd returned to her own life. Sorrow threatened to choke her. Glancing at the ceiling, she sniffed back the tears.

It was so sudden. She's simply gone to bed in her other life and woken here, in her real life.

Tears filled her eyes again and rolled down her cheeks before she could stop them. Why was she crying—she'd wanted to come back. To her Robin, to her father, to her life. This was a good thing.

But why was she so sad and disappointed?

It was too soon. She hadn't gotten to say goodbye to the girls. Or to Robin.

Robin sat up and Marian gasped, startled by his presence. What was he doing here? She cried a little harder.

"Marian?" he asked, his voice rough from sleep. He rubbed his eyes and shifted toward her. "You're awake. Wh-what's the matter? Why are you crying? Are you all right? Are you in pain?"

She shook her head and fell into his arms. His arms curved across her shoulders and she wept for a few minutes. Robin just held her. It felt good to have his arms around her. And whatever the reason, she was glad he was here.

Finally she pulled from his embrace and looked at him in the gloomy half-light. "W-what are you doing here? In my chamber? In my bed?" she asked, wiping her cheeks with the edge of the sheet.

"I've been staying with you at night. To watch over you. In case you woke up."

Her heart melted and she clasped his hand. "And my father is all right with this?"

"He knows I'm here."

She raised a brow.

"I swear it, Marian. I will go get him now, if you do not believe me."

He started to move, but she held fast to his hand. "No, not just yet. How long has it been?"

"You've been unconscious for four weeks."

Same amount of time she was in the other world. Only she'd been awake there almost the whole time. "Have I been unconscious the whole time?"

Robin nodded. "Yes, of course."

_Amazing._

"I've been so worried, as has Much. He asks about you every day. He feels guilty about what happened."

"That's silly. 'Twas an accident, that is all. Is he no longer the earl of Bonchurch, then?"

Robin shook his head. "No."

"And the mission?"

"Went according to plan. Lambert was killed but we found the ledger and the black powder and kept it from the sheriff and Gisborne. They were none too pleased."

Marian nodded. "Good."

"I should get your father," Robin said, sliding from the bed.

"No, wait."

"What is it?" he asked, concerned.

"What happened to me?" She wondered if what she remembered was what really occurred.

"As far as we can tell, your horse spooked as you left Bonchurch and you were somehow thrown from your horse. You broke your ankle and were knocked unconscious. You've been lying here for four weeks."

She nodded again. "I remember...I wasn't really thrown, though. I lost my seat, but my foot was stuck in the stirrup. Vesper dragged me quite a ways until my foot came out of my boot. Then I finally passed out. How long until you found me?"

"The next evening. Now, really, I must get your father. He has been so worried."

She nodded. Yes, her father. For whom she spared hardly a thought in the other world. What kind of daughter was she? A selfish one, that much was true. She sighed.

He leaned in a kissed her on the lips. "I'll be right back," he said and disappeared.

That was it, then. She was back in her own life and, if there was any kind of justice in the universe, her other Robin had his own Marian back. Poor woman. She would probably be quite confused. And poor Robin. How would he cope with having her back? Well, hopefully, now that he knew what was wrong with her, he could help her. He loved her deeply. Marian swallowed back a fresh bout of tears and the knot of worry. He'd had a playful and loving wife for three weeks. And now he was likely getting his moody and distant wife back.

Perhaps she'd been wrong in making love with him...in not keeping her distance.

No. She refused to believe that. She hoped, she prayed, that Robin would not leave things be now. Would not allow their lives to continue as they had. That he would set things to rights, that he would reach out to his Marian and help her. They'd talked some, but had it been enough? Did he understand about the after-baby doldrums?

"Marian, my darling," Edward exclaimed, rushing through the door.

"Father," Marian replied, receiving his embrace a moment later.

"You're back with us. Thank goodness. Are you hurting anywhere?"

"I'm quite well," Marian said. All this fuss, though. But it was to be expected, she supposed, after being unconscious for so long.

Robin came to her, too. "I wish I could stay longer, but it is dawn and I must go now. I will return this evening as soon as I can." He kissed her on the cheek and the on the mouth.

She pressed into his kiss, moved her lips against his before she remembered they were no longer married and her father was right there. Heat crept up her neck.

When he pulled back, he regarded her with a slightly raised brow. Her father smiled benignly behind Robin. As if he hadn't noticed.

She smiled. What else could she do?

He grinned in return and dragged his gaze to her father. "I will fetch Matilda and send her over."

Her heart fluttered at his response.

Edward nodded. "Thank you."

And then Robin was gone.

Her father sat on the edge of the bed and took her hands. "Oh, my dear, are you truly back with me? I was so worried. You were unconscious for so long."

"Yes, Father, I am fine. Really."

He patted her hand. "Good, good...are you hungry?"

She thought for a moment, assessing her stomach. With a nod, she said, "A little. A bowl of cook's cinnamon oatmeal would be lovely."

"Of course. I'll be right back."

He rose and kissed her forehead and then left.

Once he'd shut the door behind him, she slid from her bed. Her legs were weak and she felt lightheaded and had to grab the bed for support. Why was she so weak?

She shook her head. Of course—she'd been unconscious and hurt and in bed here all this time. Her body anyway and it was somewhat debilitated with disuse. She sat back down. Her mind, however, raced with what had happened. How would she ever explain? Did she even need to? Unlike the other reality, she had all her memories. She just had to pick up and carry on.

And she'd learned a few things while she'd been...asleep. _Had she ever_. She let out a rueful laugh. She thought about that other life. About the other Robin, who loved his wife so deeply, and the little daughters who weren't really hers. She smiled, but her heart ached remembering forthright Claire and precious little Ellie. She'd never get to hold them again.

She wanted that life. Of course, her Robin was an outlaw and until the king returned there would be no normal life in the manor. But did that have to stop them from loving, from starting their life together? She thought of the nights she'd spent with the other Robin and a blush warmed her face. She did not want to wait for the king's return to be intimate with her Robin. No longer wanted to put her life on hold for months or even years.

She would have to be patient for now. And get a feel for what had gone on here while she'd been unconscious. But once she was recovered, things were going to change. She didn't know how, but she would convince Robin to marry her. Perhaps even make the proposal herself. She was fairly certain he would not bed her otherwise. She could try to seduce him. Would enjoy trying.

The door swung up and she started, another blush creeping up her face.

Her father carried a tray with a bowl and a goblet. "Here you are, my dear." He set it down on the bed and helped her settle back in bed, tucking the pillows behind her.

"Thank you, Father." She sniffed the air. "Oh, it smells wonderful." Her stomach gurgled in response and she laughed this time.

"Matilda will be here soon and after that, I must send a message to Sir Guy."

Cold dread washed through Marian. _Guy._ "No, please. I..."

"I'm sorry, Marian, but he has been visiting and is anxious for any news of your recovery. Since you are still betrothed, I must. You know that it will not bode well if I do not."

She sighed and nodded. She'd completely forgotten about Guy. He'd not been a part of the other reality. And she was just as glad for it, but that added a complication she didn't need and certainly didn't want.

Her oatmeal suddenly didn't smell as delicious as it had just a moment before.

How was she going to get out of marrying Guy? There was no way she could ever bed him—certainly not now that she'd been with Robin and certainly not in Locksley Manor.

"What the matter?" Edward asked.

"Just thinking of my betrothal..."

"Helloooo..." called Matilda, her voice carrying in from the corridor. A moment later she appeared. "Oh, just lovely, you're finally awake."

Marian nodded.

"Out with you," Matilda said to Edward.

He nodded and pulled the door closed behind him.

"So how are you feeling?"

"I am well...a bit weak," Marian said.

"How's your ankle?" Matilda plopped on the bed near Marian's feet and picked it up and rolled it around. "No pain?"

Marian shook her head. "No."

"Good. And you're eating; that's a good sign."

Looking down at her barely-eaten breakfast, she asked, "Do you believe in..."

"Believe in...believe in what?"

"Nothing." Marian shook her head.

"Now, you listen here, the world is an amazing place and I believe there is a lot more going on in it than we are always privvy to."

Marian met Matilda's gaze. "I dreamt...or seemed to the whole time time I was unconscious. I wakened in another life after only three days and—" Marian shook her head again. "It is mad. I'm having a hard time believing it myself."

Matilda smiled and patted her leg. "Do not doubt yourself, all right? If you ever need to talk, you come to me."

Marian nodded. "I will." After seeking Matilda's counsel in her dream life and finding it clear and level-headed, she would not be so hesitant to do so in future.

"Well, you look about as right as rain. I checked you out every week or so. All your head bumps healed nicely as did your ankle, so take it easy, don't push yourself, eat to get your energy and strength back."

Marian nodded. "Thank you."

"Then I will take my leave," Matilda said and stood. "Robin was here by your side from sun down to sun up every night. He was beside himself with worry and feeling guilty over the whole thing. Even if he doesn't always say it, that man loves you deeply."

Marian's mouth dropped open and she snapped it shut, nodding again.

"He's like a son to me. Don't go breaking his heart, you hear?"

Before Marian could respond, Matilda was gone.

Break his heart? Why would she say that?

There was a knock on the door and her father peeked his head in. "Are you well, then?"

"Well, enough," Marian said.

"I have sent word to Sir Guy. I'm sure he'll be along directly. Perhaps, you'd like to dress before he arrives. Now that you're awake, it might be best if you were not in your night clothes. Or your bed chamber."

Marian nodded. "Of course. You are right, Father. Can you send one of the maids to help me?"

Much as she did not want to deal with Guy, she knew she must.

Fifteen minutes later, Marian sat downstairs. She wore a comfortable but unbecoming gown, and sat with her foot on a stool.

She heard Guy before she saw him. The rumble of pounding hooves. And then he was there, striding into her home, spurs jangling, as if he owned it. As if he had a right to be there.

"Marian, you are awake. I have been so worried. Are you well?" He stood before her looking awkward but pleased at her recovery.

She did not want to encourage him. But she had to buy some time to decide how to get out of their engagement.

She offered him a small smile. "I am as well as can be expected. I am quite weak, I find, from being asleep for four weeks. It took all I had to come downstairs to greet you. I fear I shall be here all day catching my breath and storing up enough strength to return to my chamber come bed time."

"I can carry you, if needs be." He moved toward her, looking ready to scoop her into his arms.

"Oh, _no_. Sir Guy, _really_, it's unnecessary. It's sweet of you to offer, but I prefer to stay downstairs. As you can imagine, I am tired of being cooped up upstairs. I should like to see what's going on."

"You were unconscious. How would you have known?"

"Well, I know now. And it's the thought of it. I am fine really." She smiled at him, although it felt more like a grimace, and he finally nodded. "I'm sure you must be busy... Thank you coming to check on me, but do not let me keep you."

He opened his mouth to speak, but seemed to change his mind. "I will return this evening and I will carry you to your chamber."

No! "That is not necessary, Sir Guy, really."

"I know it is not necessary. But I wish to help you. We are betrothed."

She finally nodded. "It must be a short visit then. By the end of the day, I am sure to be quite exhausted."

With a single nod, he said, "Of course," and offered her a half smile. "Till this evening."

She nodded and he tromped back out.

She breathed a sigh of relief.

Now she needed a plan, maybe two.

One to end her betrothal to Guy and one to convince Robin to marry her.


	25. Chapter 25

Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood, Robin, Marian, et al. I have earned nothing from this endeavor but the joy that comes from the writing and the possibility of a nice comment or two.

**Marian: Through the Looking Glass, Chapter 25**

The servants treated Marian like royalty and catered to her every whim.

But otherwise her first day back in her real world dragged. Her mind raced while her body barely moved. She hated the forced inactivity, but her body was too weak. Tomorrow, however, she would start moving about, regaining her strength and stamina no matter what it took.

She'd gotten used to a certain routine and she longed to talk with Claire and be amused by her three-year-old observations of the world around them. She wanted to hold baby Ellie and just revel in the joy only an infant can exude. She mourned the loss of the freedom and authority she had as lady of Locksley.

But she had Robin, although not during the day. Their time in this reality would be severely limited. At least until she regained her strength and could walk or ride to the forest. She looked forward to spending more time with him and really getting to know him again. Of learning the details of his life in the forest, learning about the rest of the gang. Of learning the secrets of his heart since his departure to the Holy Land five and a half years ago.

But nights spent in his arms were over. At least for the time being, and sadness filled her at the thought.

Now, how was she going to break her betrothal? After the last four weeks spent as Robin's wife in _every_ sense of the word, there was no way she could ever marry Guy. Unfortunately, the danger to her and her father still existed and perhaps one of the only ways to escape it was simply to leave.

Guy would come in search of her, of that she had no doubt, but surely if they went far enough away, the sheriff would have little authority, much less the burning desire to track them down and threaten them or force them back to Nottinghamshire—they'd no longer be a threat to him and he'd no longer be a threat to them.

It all sounded so simple and easy, but it wasn't. Marian sighed.

Would Uncle Bertram and Aunt Sabina welcome them, even have room for them? And how would she convince Father to leave? If she couldn't, at what point did she cut the apron strings and move on with her own life?

And moving on with her life had everything to do with Robin. So what about him, then? And their relationship? He would not abandon the people nor the cause of justice for love. And she would not ask it of him. Perhaps Father could go to Lincolnshire and she could join the gang in the forest. She'd resisted until now, but if Father were out of harm's way, would she, could she live in the forest?

If it meant being with Robin, at this point she'd do just about anything.

Well, that was good know. She knew what she wanted to accomplish, now she just needed that pla—

"Marian..."

Marian blinked and gasped in surprise. "Huh...?"

Sir Guy stood in front of her wearing a gentle smile. "A daydream... of our wedding, perhaps?"

"What? No... sorry..." She shook her head.

Disappointment replaced his smile and the smallest kernel of guilt rolled in her stomach, although she had no reason to feel so. "I was thinking of... my mother."

_A lie._ A big fat lie. Lord have mercy on her soul.

Sir Guy nodded, a tender expression returning. "You must miss her."

Marian nodded. "Yes..." She forced tears to her eyes and then dabbed at them. "I do not wish to speak of her. I'm sorry. I am quite ready to return to my chamber and prepare for bed." She hoped he'd take the hint and not linger.

"Very well." He leaned over and scooped her up. She looped an arm around his shoulders for balance, but otherwise tried to avoid touching him. Well as much as possible considering he carried her.

He ascended the stairs easily, even with her weight, and settled her gently on the edge of her bed.

"There you are," he said, hope in the low tone of his voice. He seemed to wait with expectation.

Hope and expectation for what she did not know and had no wish to speculate. But she offered him a half-smile. "Thank you, Sir Guy. I know my father could not have managed it."

His face fell and his lips thinned in disappointment—or displeasure. She could not tell. Nor did she care all that much.

"Shall I call on you tomorrow then?" he asked.

Her stomach dropped. She did not wish to entertain Guy every day. Not when her goal was to rid herself of his presence in her life altogether. She sighed and gazed at him. "If you don't mind... I think I'm going to spend the day in bed..." _Another lie_. "Today has taken more out of me than I expected and if I am to regain my strength, I must rest."

He offered her a jerky nod and she could see he was not pleased by her words. But he accepted them. "Then I shall return the day after next to see how you fare."

Flashing him what she hoped was a wan smile, she said, "Then I shall see you Wednesday."

A moment later he was gone and she breathed a sigh of relief. She listened as his booted feet pounded down the stairs, his spurs jingling almost merrily in contrast to the sudden desperation she felt. She had to figure a way out of the betrothal and soon.

"Wednesday, is it?"

Marian started and looked toward the window. Robin's face appeared, quickly followed by the rest of him as he climbed inside.

"You scared me," she admonished.

"Apologies," he said, sitting next to her on the bed, although he didn't sound the least bit contrite. "So Wednesday?"

Marian huffed. He certainly hadn't changed any in the last month. He was still so caustic when the green-eyed monster reared its ugly head. _But..._ That meant he cared for her. A lot. More than he had so far admitted to. Matilda's words returned to her, '_Even if he doesn't always say it, that man loves you deeply._'

She looked at him, at his dear scruffy face, his gray-blue eyes that bore into hers. The veiled worry and, yes, there it was... the love. The urge to kiss him, to establish the closeness and intimacy she'd so enjoyed in that other reality, filled her.

Until now, she'd held her grudge against him for leaving her. After her recent, albeit unbelievable, experience, she realized life was too short not to grab hold of happiness and hold on with both hands.

And she planned to do just that.

Reaching out, she cupped his neck, her fingers remembering well the softness of the curls there. Simultaneously, she leaned forward and pulled him toward her, pressing her lips to his.

She heard his surprised gasp and took advantage of his now parted lips to deepen the kiss. His response was instant and exactly as she'd hoped. His tongue swept her mouth and caressed hers. All those delightful feelings she'd come to enjoy rushed through her and she sighed in happiness.

When the kiss ended, he looked at her, surprise written all over his face. His astonishment made her laugh.

"I am surprised and pleased," he said, "but what brought that on?"

"I have changed, learned some things, realized some things. While I was unconscious... I... dreamt." How was she going to explain what had happened? Did she need to? Perhaps calling it a dream was sufficient.

Robin raised a brow.

"Of us... as a family... with daughters..."

But then his grin faded and her stomach dropped in foreboding.

"Speaking of dreams..."

Something in his tone caught her attention and she swallowed back the ball of nervousness that rose in her throat.

"On several occasions you... you moved about, you made noises as is, as if..."

Marian's face burned and she knew exactly where he was going.

He dropped his voice to a whisper. "As if you were being made love to. You even called out my name once." Beneath the scruff, Robin's own face took on a pinkish hue, as if he, too, was embarrassed. She found it endearing and sweet.

But what could she say about that part of the dream?

"My dreams were so very real," she said, not exactly sure how to explain further. "One cannot control one's dreams."

"I understand that, but we have never been... _intimate_. How can you dream of something of which you have little or no experience?"

"I... I do not know." She shrugged, helpless to find an adequate explanation.

"The only thing that kept me from killing Gisborne was the fact that you called out my name and not his."

Now heat bloomed in her cheeks, but for a wholly different reason. "How dare you? I would never compromise my virtue with Guy."

"_Guy_ is it now?"

"Oh, please. Stop acting like a child. It's you I love, you I want to be w—"

Her eyes went wide at her admission, as did Robin's.

She covered her mouth with her hand.

"Do you, Marian? Do you really love me?" He was so shocked and surprised and almost disbelieving.

Tears welled in her eyes and rolled down her face. She nodded. "More than life itself," she said before throwing herself into his arms.

He buried his face in her neck and slid his arms around her. They stayed wrapped around each other until a clearing of a throat separated them.

"Oh... Father..." Marian sniffed back her emotions and laughed a little. She wiped the tears from her face.

"Is everything all right?" Edward asked looking from one to the other, a bit concerned.

She smiled. "Yes, of course. I have inadvertently declared my love for an outlaw."

Edward frowned. "Wh-what? You are betrothed to Sir Guy. You cannot love Robin Hood."

Now it was Robin's turn to frown, although he avoided meeting Edward's gaze.

"I cannot help it, Father. Surely you understand that. Robin and I, we—"

"What I understand is that if you do not marry Sir Guy, we will both suffer for it."

"Father, I have no intention of marrying Guy, not now, not when the king returns, not ever."

"_Marian—_" he said low and quickly. Then he turned to Robin. "Perhaps you had better leave."

Robin's eyes snapped to Edward's, sparking heatedly, "But Edward... I have sat here by her side, every night for the last four weeks. And now you want to throw me out?"

Father had the good sense to look chagrined. "I apologize. It's just that apparently Marian and I have some things to discuss."

"There is nothing to discuss," Marian said. "I will not marry Guy."

"I shall return on the morrow," he said stiffly. Robin stood and then leaned over to kiss her on the cheek. "Good-bye, my love."

"Please come back," she whispered in his ear.

He nodded and slipped out the window.

Once he'd gone, Marian scooted herself up onto the bed. "Father, please. I do not wish to discuss this now. I am tired."

"That's very convenient."

"'Tis true."

"Do not think we will not finish this conversation."

She sighed. "I know. May I please have some supper?"

Edward nodded, looking displeased. "Very well." He pulled the door closed behind him.

Marian sighed in relief and grabbed her nightgown. She slid from the bed and hobbled to the window. Closing the shutters, she changed from her day dress into her nightgown and then opened the shutters back up.

"Spoilsport," she heard from the loft.

She smiled and her heart fluttered. As soon as she ate her meal, she would feign exhaustion.

Father brought fish and vegetables. Her favorite smoked fish dish and she asked for more. Not because was still hungry, but for Robin. And as it was her favorite, a second helping would not be suspicious.

Finally, she was rid of dirty dishes and her parent. And any further delays. Father blew out all candles and bid her goodnight. She listened for the creak on the floorboards, which meant Father had reached the stairs, before whispering loudly for Robin to re-enter.

"Come, lay beside me," she said, schooching down to a prone position. She was feeling tired now. Walking to the window and back and undressing had taken more out of her than she'd anticipated.

"Marian?"

"You heard me. I want to lie in your arms. In my… dream... we were married. We shared a bed. I want to experience it with my real Robin, not my dream Robin."

Moments later, they lay on their right sides, Robin spooned in behind Marian, his tucked around her waist.

She sighed. "This is lovely. I wish..."

"Did you really mean it?"

"That I would not marry, Guy?" She nodded. "Yes. Now I just need to figure out how to break our engagement."

"Then we will think of something, now go to sleep." He kissed her shoulder. "Marian?"

"Hmmm?" she intoned, sleep already overtaking her and making her voice soft and slurry.

"I love you, too."

Robin awoke as the cock crowed beyond the window. Something was wrong, but he didn't know what nor why he felt that way. Marian slept beside him, snoring softly.

He sat up and glanced around the chamber, but everything seemed to be in place.

Rising, he tiptoed to the dressing chamber and donned his clothes but the feeling of foreboding weighed heavier and he decided to remain home today. It was probably nothing, but he didn't want to take any chances.

He inhaled deeply and tried to release his worry along with his breath. Once more. Inhale... exhale. Shrugging, he rolled his shoulders. Better.

He shucked his clothes once more and climbed back in bed with Marian. Scooting up behind her, he slid his arm around her waist, cupped a breast, and buried his face in her neck and hair.

He loved cuddling with her these days. She was more relaxed and playful and open about sex. More, he thought, than she'd ever been. And he never wanted that to change.

Suddenly, she stiffened in his arms. Her breathing became rapid and shallow. And then she leapt from the bed, turning to look at him with wide panicked eyes.

"My lord husband," she said, her chest rising and falling beneath her white gown.

"Welcome back, wife..."


	26. Chapter 26

Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood, Robin, Marian, et al. I have earned nothing from this endeavor but the joy that comes from the writing and the possibility of some nice feedback.

Notes: Many thanks to Hilla_Maid for the beta reading.

**Marian: Through the Looking Glass, Chapter Twenty-six**

"You're alive," Marian said, her voice trembling and her eyes wide and scared. She hugged herself and crumpled to the floor.

Robin's heart stopped and then took off like a loosed arrow. He froze for half a second as he regarded the heap on the floor. Remembering her words about multiple realities, he slid from bed and knelt beside her. Gently, he placed a hand on her shoulder but she flinched. His Marian was back and apparently delusional.

A small ember of anger festered in his gut, but he pushed away any accompanying thoughts. He couldn't, he _shouldn't_ be angry with her. She was ill in the mind from having babies. _His_ babies. It sounded so wrong, but he trusted her—the other Marian—and he trusted Matilda. "Marian, please, it's all right. I promise. I promise it's going to be all right."

He didn't know how or how long, but some day, some way, it would be all right.

She looked up at him, her watery blue eyes searching his. "Something's terribly terribly wrong with me. Don't put me in an asylum, Robin, I beg of you." She clutched at him.

He shifted to a sitting position and pulled her into his arms. Kissing the top of her head, he whispered, "No, my love. You don't need an asylum. You'll be fine, you _are_ fine." He stroked her hair and held her.

Robin awoke before the cock crowed, as he had every morning for the past four weeks. He had to slip out of Marian's chamber before the household woke up. The only difference was—the biggest and best difference was—that she was no longer unconscious. He could wake her and say good bye and get a response.

He inched himself away from her so as not to alarm her with his body's usual morning state. She mumbled softly when he kissed her shoulder and ran his hand along her hip and upper thigh and then up her arm. "Marian, my love, it's time to wake up."

"Mmm…" She rolled over, eyes still closed, reaching for him. "Morning, my lord husband," she murmured, sliding her hand along his chest and into his hair; she pulled his head down and pressed against him.

Robin stiffened. Did she just call him husband? Was she suddenly unconsci—

She scooched upwards and kissed him on the mouth, her lips moving across his, her tongue seeking entrance. "Robin..."

Excitement and want rippled through him and he opened his mouth to her, slid an arm around her and rolled her onto her back and lay partially across her body. Her right leg curled around his left and slid up his calf as she hooked her ankle behind his knee.

His whole body tingled at the feel of her beneath him, wanting him, touching him.

Mercy, he wanted her. More than he'd ever wanted her before. Did she even know what she was doing? He had a vague sense of disquiet that she did. It thrilled him and bothered him at the same time. He'd always sensed her passionate nature, even before he'd left for the Holy Land when she'd been much younger and innocent. But he wanted to know how she'd come by her knowledge.

He ended the deep kiss with a groan of pleasure and in disappointment. They could not continue. Not now and not here. "Marian, we must stop."

Large blue eyes blinked open. Surprise flashed through them and color tinted her cheeks. She stilled, but she didn't pull away from him. Indeed, her fingers continued to slide through his hair. And he loved it. Loved the feel of it and wanted the closeness it wrought.

"Much as I would like to continue this endeavor, I do not think it such a good idea to do it in your bed."

Pretty pink lips opened in an O shape. "Oh, dear..." she murmured. "No."

"I must leave before the day begins. I am going to have a hard time returning to the camp if this is the kind of greeting I can expect every morning. But Marian... how do you know these things now?"

Marian swallowed. How fearful he was of how she'd gained her knowledge. She felt it, sensed it, saw it in his eyes. How _had_ she known? She thought back to her life in the other reality. Partly she had the other Robin to show her. But it wasn't really that. She'd felt safe and encouraged to show and explore a side of her she already had. She looked Robin in the eyes and brushed back the hair from his face. "Instinct, my love. When I am close to you, I have feelings and desires to touch you or kiss you or..."

Heat flamed in his eyes. "Or..."

Warmth rose to her cheeks, but she lifted her hips and nudged her belly into his semi-hard manhood.

His mouth opened and his eyes widened and she smiled. They were crossing a lot of barriers very quickly. Perhaps it wouldn't be so hard to convince him to marry her or bed her after all. "And I am no longer afraid of showing you how I feel. The most important thing I learned from being unconscious is that life is too short and too precious. I do not want to spend any more time apart than necessary. I want to be with you Robin. Every day and every night."

"Then we'd better come up with that plan."

Robin held Marian as she held onto him.

Relief trickled though him.

And then a sense of rightness flooded him.

She was in his arms willingly; she'd reached out for his comfort and his help. It was more than she'd done in the months prior to her accident.

Marian had been right. The other Marian, that is. All those mad things she'd tried to explain to him. They'd fallen into place as soon as Marian had jumped from their bed this morning.

He'd understood. Well, he accepted. He still didn't really understand.

But he had _his_ Marian back. He felt it. _Knew_ it.

And suddenly he was glad. Much as he'd enjoyed that other Marian. This was his wife and he would do anything and everything he could to help her and make their marriage better than it had ever been.

The door swung open and Robin looked up, startled.

"Da da da, where are you and Ma ma ma?" Claire asked, standing in the doorway with hands on hips. "I'm hungry." Her eyes dropped to her mother and she frowned.

"Ma ma ma isn't feeling well," Robin said. "Please go downstairs and fetch Thornton."

"Is Ma ma ma sleeping again?"

Robin shook his head. "No, my love, she's not sleeping again. Go on, now, fetch Thornton."

In a blink, she was gone, her footsteps thumping softly along the landing and down the stairs. Her little girl voice called for Thornton.

Several minutes later, Thornton appeared in the doorway. "Master Robin, what can I do?" Concern laced his voice.

"Send someone after Matilda and then please bring some cinnamon oatmeal and some mulled wine. And have Leah look after the girls today."

"Very good, sir."

"Marian, my love, let's get you back into bed."

She dragged herself to a sitting position. Red-rimmed eyes looked at him from a splotchy face surrounded by a tangled mass of dark hair.

Love welled within him and his heart hurt.

Rising to his feet, he held out his hands. "Come."

Placing her hands in his, Marian allowed him to help her to her feet and then into the bed. He fluffed the pillows and settled them behind her and pulled the blanket up to her waist. He moved to the window and they waited in silence, a slightly awkward silence, for Matilda to arrive.

"Well, well, well. What have we here, then?" asked Matilda when she stepped into the chamber a half hour later.

"Marian has finally been returned to us," Robin said moving toward the door.

Matilda's brow shot up and she looked at him. "Well, that's good news then, isn't it?" she said as she crossed the room. "Now then, let's have a look at you." She turned to Robin. "Shoo."

Fifteen minutes later, Matilda pulled the door open. Robin stood leaning against the railing. Nerves tickled his stomach.

Matilda smiled her knowing, motherly smile. "Bodily, she fine. No aches, pains, bumps, or bruises." Then she tapped her head. "Up here, now, she's a little confused. But with a lot of tender loving care and a lot of talking she'll be right as rain eventually."

"Thank you," Robin said, hugging her. "Thornton has your payment."

"If you need anything else, you know where to find me." She patted his arm and headed for the stairs.

Grabbing the breakfast tray, he went into his and Marian's chamber. She lay curled on her side, the blanket clutched in her fist at her breast, just staring.

Sliding the tray onto the chest, he went to her. Placing a kiss on her forehead, he said, "Come, my love, you must eat and we must talk."

"I'm not hungry."

"That may be, but you've been... gone for a month, you need some kind of nourishment. Just a few bites, all right?"

She nodded and sat up. Robin placed the tray on her lap and then returned to the window. Much, as per their conversation while Matilda had examined Marian, rode down the lane to make an appearance at whatever villages were on the schedule for the day. Robin couldn't even remember which ones.

His real Marian was back. The other Marian's assertion and warning rolled though his head. He'd tell her about the journal all in good time, but he wanted to talk to her first. Reassure her and find out where she'd been during this whole time.

"I can't eat anymore," she finally said after a handful of bites.

He set the tray back out on the landing and shut the door behind him when he came back inside. She watched him with big eyes and her fingers worried the blanket.

He didn't know where to start. This had happened so suddenly he'd had no time to prepare, to come up with a plan. Well, there was no help for it. From everything Marian—the other Marian—and Matilda had said before, the most important things were for her to know he loved her, for her to not feel overwhelmed, and for her, for _them_, to talk.

He leaned up against the door. He didn't know if he should go to her or not.

He released a breath and chuckled ruefully. "I don't even know where to start..."

She held his gaze, which he thought was a good sign.

"I love you, Marian. More than life itself and if anything ever happened to you, I would be lost."

Tears shimmered in her eyes and he went to her; took her hands in his and kissed them. "You are my reason for getting up in the morning, my reason for living."

"I-I'm s-sorry..." she said.

"For what?"

"F-for causing so much t-trouble." She kept her eyes on her their clasped hands.

"No." He shook his head firmly. Pulling his hand free, he tapped her under the chin to get her to look at him. "You are not trouble. In fact, I think this is one of the best things to happen to us."

"It doesn't feel so good."

"No, it probably doesn't, not right now; but it'll get better and some day you'll be happy again."

Her eyes widened.

"We'll take it one day at a time, but you have to promise me one thing..."

"What?" It was a whisper.

"No matter what, you have to be honest. You have to talk to me and you have to be honest about what you think and how you feel."

He could see the confusion in her eyes, the worry and fear, too. "It's important, Marian. It's more important you hurt my feelings with the truth than by burying and hiding your own. Do you understand?"

She nodded.

"And do you promise?"

She nodded again.

"Say it."

"I promise," she whispered.

"Good. Now, I think you should say hello to our daughters. Claire, especially, is worried about you."

She opened her mouth—to protest, he was sure—and he held up a hand. "I know that you have struggled with your motherly feelings for a while. And I know that while you were gone from here, you were someplace else."

Surprise crossed her face. "How…?"

"There was another Marian here. One who took to our daughters like a duck takes to water. They have come to expect a certain amount of attention from their mother."

Now Marian frowned and he almost laughed. She didn't seem to like the thought of another woman, even if it was a version of herself, in their lives. That was hopeful. Of course, when he confessed he'd bedded this other Marian, she would not be so pleased about that either. Guilt rippled inside him, but he hadn't known. At first. Unfortunately, what was done was done and he could not change what had transpired.

Or maybe she didn't like the thought of spending time with the girls. He shook his head. Before she'd been bedridden while carrying Ellie, she'd spent plenty of time with Claire. Her change in behavior must have been all part of this same sickness.

"So all I ask is that you see them for a few minutes. Hug Claire, tell her to be a good girl for Leah and play nice with Ellie. All right?"

She nodded, still looking unsure about the whole thing. "Very well."

Robin rounded up the girls and all went according to plan. Once Claire was satisfied that her mother just had a bud tummy ache much like her own a couple of weeks ago, Leah herded them back to their chamber.

"Now, I want you to lay down and rest. Try to sleep a little, and this afternoon, we'll talk some more. All right?" About what, he wasn't sure yet, but talk they would.

She nodded.

"I was going to go downstairs and work on the ledgers for a bit, but if you want or need me to stay, I will. I don't want you think I'm abandoning you. I'm just trying to give you space if that's what you need."

Marian opened her mouth several times to speak, but couldn't seem to find the words.

"Marian, whatever you decide is fine. I promise."

She swallowed and then in a soft voice asked, "Can you...can you stay until I fall asleep?"

He smiled. "Of course. Where shall I sit? I would like to sit on the bed next to you, but if that's not comfortable for you, then just say so."

"That sounds nice."

Marian slid down into the covers as Robin climbed onto the bed. He pulled a pillow behind him and stretched his legs out crossing them at the ankles. Folding his hands across his stomach, he let out a breath. "Sweet dreams."

Robin sighed. His Marian was back and for the moment, all was right in his world.

**To be continued…**


	27. Chapter 27

Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood, Marian, Robin, et al. I have earned nothing from this endeavor.

**Marian: Through the Looking Glass, Chapter Twenty-seven**

Robin disappeared out the window and Marian rose from the bed, following. When he reached the tree line, he turned and blew her a kiss and then bowed extravagantly, making her laugh. She sent him a kiss in return and then he was gone, swallowed up by the browns and greens of the foliage that surrounded the over-grown courtyard of Knighton Hall.

Now it was time to regain her strength. As she walked the length of the room, thoughts about what had transpired between them that morning filled her head. Heat rushed to her cheeks as she recalled her little faux pas. It had been wonderful to share a bed with him again. And Robin seemed to enjoy it, but she couldn't take any more chances; she could get caught up in him and forget herself far too easily. Not that she had a problem with the forgetting, but Robin was right, her bed was not the place for it. Either he could not spend the night in her bed any longer or she would have to be extremely careful. Neither option was very pleasing.

By the time she'd reached the far side of the room, she breathed heavily. She dragged air into her lungs and leaned against the wall. It was worse than she thought. With her legs so loose and shaky, she didn't know if she'd make it back to bed without collapsing. Well, even if she did, she didn't care.

She straightened her shoulders and took a fortifying breath. She needed to regain her strength and her stamina and she would push herself to do so.

Then there was figuring out how to break her engagement.

Would it be, could it be, as easy as walking away? Convincing Father would not be so easy and if he did not agree to go, she could not leave him to whatever punishment Guy or the sheriff would, no doubt, dole out.

Moving back toward the window, her legs burned, but she finally made it to the stool in the corner and let her body rest for a few moments as she pulled in deep breaths of air.

Father was bound and determined to have a conversation with her about her betrothal to Guy. Perhaps, the best way to convince him was to tell him about her _dream_. Explain how she felt. Perhaps she could appeal to him using his feelings for her mother. He'd once told her how theirs was such a love match. If she could get him to remember how he'd felt, maybe that would be enough to convince him to contact Uncle Bertram.

She returned to the bed, collapsing into it. Getting her strength back was going to take a bit longer than she hoped. Well, perhaps it could work to her advantage in keeping Guy at bay.

A knock sounded on the door and Marian looked at it. "Come in," she called smoothing the blankets over her waist and legs and modulating her breathing.

Father entered carrying a tray with a bowl, a goblet, and a hunk of bread. He set it down on the bed next to her and perched on the edge.

"Marian, we must talk."

"Yes." They had to talk. She met his gaze and nodded, dragging the tray to her lap.

"You must marry Gisborne."

"Let's move to Lincolnshire."

"If you don—what?" Father's eyes widened and he shook his head as if he hadn't heard her. "Move to Linc—but why?"

"Why?" she asked, her voice rising in anger. Heat warmed her face. "Because... if we had moved to Lincolnshire in the first place four years ago, I would not be betrothed to the sheriff's lackey in the second place.

"Because if we move to Lincolnshire, we will be out of the sheriff—and Guy's—reach. And we just might have a chance at an easier, happier life."

Father's chin wobbled, color rose in his face. "We cannot just pack up and move to Lincolnshire."

"Why not? Would Uncle Bertram and Aunt Sabina not welcome us, at least for a short time?"

He looked surprised. "Well, I suppose they would, but Marian, what about Guy? You have made a commitment. He is not one to—"

Her brow arched, way up under the hair on her forehead and she snorted in derision. "My commitment to Guy? Made under duress? Under threat of reprisal if I did not accept his proposal..."

She didn't like her father very much right now. She loved him dearly, but his lack of a backbone really irritated her. Losing his position as sheriff was unfortunate and out of his hands, but why had they stayed? Of course, to be honest, they had been doing all right until Robin returned and had to play the hero. But Robin's boldness only served to highlight how meek her father really was.

She sighed and put away those thoughts. It did no good to drag up the whys and wherefores of the past. She had to worry about now. And now she wasn't going to marry Guy.

"Father, I cannot marry Guy. I just cannot. I love Robin, with all of my heart. And I can't, I won't, let that love go a second time." For her, the stakes were higher now. It was not just the emotional element, but the physical, too, if she were honest. But not the act itself, it was the bond between them because of the act. She wanted that with this Robin. With _her_ Robin.

Father frowned again, his lips thinning in displeasure.

She groaned inwardly. If she could not convince him, he would leave her no choice. "Father, please... you once told me how much you and Mother loved each other. Surely you remember how it felt not only to be parted from her, but also to be with her."

His face softened slightly, his expression uncertain.

"While I was unconscious, I had a dream... Robin hadn't gone on the crusades, we were married, we had children... We loved each other so much. I realized when I woke up, that I want that. I want every day with Robin. The hardships and the joys."

"But he is an outlaw. You, you, can't expect... Sir Guy could provide for you better than—"

"I would rather live in the forest with Robin, as an outlaw myself, if needs be, than live in Locksley Manor with Guy."

"You cannot mean that."

Marian stared her father down. "I can and I do." How could he not understand?

"What if there are children? It's one thing to live in the forest when it's just you, but how can you expect to raise a child in the forest?"

That was the only concern she had, but she refused to allow it to sway her. "There are ways to avoid children."

Father's jaw tightened. "I will not allow you to run off to the forest."

"You will not allow it?" Anger knotted in her stomach and she pushed the tray aside without having touched a thing. "You would have me marry a man I do not love, who wants me merely because I once belonged to another, all because you do not want to upset your life. A life that, in my opinion, is hardly worth living if you cannot live without fear that any little thing you do or say could put you in peril."

"_How dare you_?"Father spat softly, his voice quaking with emotion, his eyes sparking with anger. "Everything I have done has been with you in mind."

Marian's anger drained from her in a trice. She didn't know how true his words were, but this argument was getting them nowhere. "Father, I'm sorry..." She was willing to take the high road if that meant she could convince him to go to Lincolnshire. "I am being willful again." She offered him a rueful smile. "Please, Father... consider Lincolnshire. Just consider it."

He sighed and nodded once. "Very well. I will consider it. In fact, while you were asleep, the thought did cross my mind."

Marian shook her head. "Then why are we fighting over this?" Men. They never ceased to confuse her.

"Because now I am not so sure it is the wisest course. While you were unconscious, I was so worried. I was willing to consider any option. But now... now you are returned to me and I must think of—"

"I cannot think how moving to Lincolnshire would not be in both our best interests. Father, please..."

"That's enough." He held up a hand. "I do not wish to discuss it further at the moment. You should eat." With that he got up and left.

Marian exhaled in exasperation. Could he not see? Apparently not. And could she really leave him? If she did, he'd be in danger. Part of the reason for her accepting Guy's proposal was protection for her father. And if she left, he'd then be in danger from Guy rather than the sheriff.

Tears sprung to her eyes and she scooted down into her blankets. Why did men have to be so hard-headed?

Perhaps she could convince Robin to kidnap her father. They could take him to her uncle's and aunt's house and voila. She sighed. No...that wouldn't be right, as tempting an idea as it was.

The problem was that she couldn't break the betrothal without incurring Guy's wrath. Which meant they had to be far enough out of his reach to be safe. But how far was far enough?

Another knock sounded at the door.

Marian looked up to see Hilla in the doorway.

"I've come to get yer tray, miss. Have yer finished breaking yer fast?" She bobbed a quick curtsy.

Marian merely nodded. She'd lost her appetite.

It was hopeless. There was no way to break the engagement herself or cause Guy to break it without placing her and or Father back in danger. Either option rekindled his anger.

It seemed the only option was to leave, but now she could not get her father to agree to that either.

"So Marian has awakened?" Djaq asked as she, Robin and Will headed for Clun with a food delivery. Of course, Djaq knew she had. Much had mentioned it the previous day.

"Yes, she has," he said with a grin.

Djaq heard the happiness in his voice; had noticed the sparkle in his eye, the lightness of his step.

"And, soon, we shall be together."

Djaq smiled at his optimism. She hoped it was so; he deserved to be happy. "And how is she?"

Robin shifted the large basket of food in his arms and said, "She is well. Weak from lying about for four weeks, but her mind is fine."

Djaq nodded. "That is good news."

Robin nodded as they entered the village and they stopped to divvy up the provisions before going three separate ways to hand out the food.

When they'd finished, they met back at the outskirts of the village.

"I'm going to stay while," Will said, "there are a couple of cottages in need of some minor repairs."

"Right. Good. We'll see you back at camp then." Robin clasped Will on the shoulder. "Let's go, Djaq."

They disappeared into the forest and walked along without speaking for quite some time. The forest was so different from her own land…desert and sand and sun and heat. She missed her country, but, then again, England had its own beauty. If she ever made it back home she would miss the seasons and the rain. And the creatures.

The leaves chattered above them and all manner of birds twittered and chirped in the bushes and treetops. Startled creatures darted from one hidey hole to another.

"Djaq?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

He glanced at her, an uncertain expression on his face. "And it'll just be between you and me?"

She nodded.

"Well, this morning..."

They walked a few more steps.

"This morning what, Robin?"

He shook his head. "I shouldn't say anything."

"Did you and Marian...?" She couldn't quite bring herself to name the deed.

Robin's head shot up and his eyes were as big as horse shoes. "What? No." But color stained his cheeks and Djaq laughed.

"But you wanted to." There was a log up ahead and Djaq took a seat and patted the space beside her. "What is on your mind?"

But Robin didn't sit. He paced.

"I... uh... did spend the night in Marian's bed."

Djaq nodded. That was a given. Oh, wait a minute—Marian was no longer unconscious. Something must have happened. "And...?"

"Nothing happened."

He said it so quickly she didn't believe him. Something _had _happened and whatever it was bothered him.

"Then what seems to be the problem?"

"Marian."

"You said she was fine."

"She _is_ fine." He made another loop around the log. Then he came to a standstill, facing away from her, and asked, "How do women know what to do?"

_How do women know what to do? _Djaq frowned in confusion. "What to do where?" He was being so vague. She had no ide— Djaq's breath caught in her throat. "Oh."

He turned around and met her gaze. "Yes, oh."

He was referring to sex. Of course. If it were anything else, he would have just come right out and asked. He'd said nothing happened, so they hadn't made love, but something _had_ happened.

"How do women know what to do?" Djaq confirmed his question.

He nodded.

Marian must have done something he felt she shouldn't know about. Djaq shrugged. "Instinct mostly. It's one thing to see barn animals rutting, but applying the knowledge to a man and a woman who love each other is something else. In my country, a girl learns of the marriage bed and what is expected of her in the weeks prior to her wedding. Her mother and aunts and sisters will share the knowledge of sex and advise her how to please her husband. But she is so nervous by the time she gets there she cannot remember what she was taught, so her instincts take over and guide her. Then of course she will rely on her husband to know the rest and teach her what she needs to know."

Robin nodded and she saw the tenseness slip away from him.

"You know what to do, right?" she asked, fighting hard to keep a straight face.

"What? _Yes__._ Of course I do," he said as color tainted his face once again.

Djaq laughed out loud then.

**To be continued…**


	28. Chapter 28

Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood, Robin Marian, et al; I have earned nothing from this endeavor but the joy that comes from the writing and the possibility of a nice comment or two.

**Marian: Through the Looking Glass, Chapter Twenty-eight**

Robin's visit had been short and filled with tension. Marian and Robin stood by her bedroom window as he prepared to leave.

"Please come back later," she whispered. She hated saying good bye to him.

With a shake of his head, he said, "I can't share your bed anymore, Marian."

"Is that what's been bothering you tonight?"

Shrugging one shoulder, he nodded, looking as unhappy as Marian felt; disappointment, sadness, frustration all cycled through her, but so did understanding.

He picked up a curl from her shoulder and rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger. "It's too hard to refrain and too dangerous not to."

"I know." She hugged him. "But promise me it won't be for long."

He kissed her then. A long deep kiss that left her breathless and aching for more.

"I promise." He pulled away with one last chaste but lingering kiss and slipped out the window into the night.

Marian hugged herself and trudged to her bed, her heart as heavy as her limbs.

_A plan... I must come up with a plan..._ The words throbbed in her brain as she climbed into bed.

Father had been decidedly cool towards Robin that evening, as if it were all Robin's fault that she loved him. As if he'd suddenly bewitched her. She'd loved him, if she were truly honest with herself, since well before he left for the Holy Land. And, yes, she'd been angry that he'd chosen to go, but she'd never stopped loving him. Not really. She could admit that now.

Marian sighed. And what she wouldn't give to be his wife right now. Falling asleep in his arms, waking in his arms, making love in his arms. Her pulse raced just thinking about it.

But then another thought stopped her heart—

Guy would be coming to see her on the morrow.

She wasn't looking forward to that at all. Well, she just wouldn't think about it. She'd think about something pleasant like...

A vision of her and Robin in a secluded meadow came to mind, but she pushed it aside, as enjoyable as it was, and thought of Claire and Ellie instead. She smiled at the images that swam in her mind's eye. Ellie splashing in the bath, gurgling with happiness, the sparkling eyes so like Robin's. And Claire with her no-nonsense nature. Had it only been a couple of days since she'd last seen them, last held them? She missed them terribly. She hoped her other self would overcome her sadness and start taking an interest in them again. A sudden—or maybe a not-so-sudden—longing for a child of her own now assailed her and she buried her face in her pillow. She remembered many other small moments with the little girls, the ache growing with each thought, until she finally fell asleep.

Marian's eyes snapped open, and she rolled over to stare at the shadowy figure by the bed, gasping in fearful surprise.

Blinking to clear away the haze, her eyes adjusted quickly to the gloomy pre-dawn light. Robin came into focus. "You scared me."

"I'm sorry, my love." Robin perched at the edge of the bed and pushed the hair away from her face. "I came to say good morning and to let you know I won't be along tonight." His smile was sad. Taking her hand, he kissed it, keeping hold of it in his lap. With his thumb, he rubbed her palm and delicious little sensations trickled up her arm, making her pulse beat a bit faster.

"Why ever not?" she asked, hoping she didn't sound as breathless as she felt.

"Vaizey is up to something and I will be traveling to a few neighboring shires to investigate. I probably won't return until after midnight."

Struggling to a sitting position, she wrapped her arms about his neck and kissed him. "Please come see me... no matter how late," she whispered. She'd gotten used to his company on a daily basis in that other life and quite missed it here in this one.

"Marian, we talked about that—_just last night._ I do not think it a good idea."

"I know it's not but I will miss you, and I would want to know that you've returned safe. Otherwise I shall worry. You wouldn't want me to worry in my delicate condition would you?"

"Delicate?" he asked with an amused snort. But then he smiled and rested his forehead against hers. "Are you sure?"

She nodded and held his gaze; a clandestine late night visit with no one the wiser might be just what they both needed. As if reading her mind, heat flared in his eyes, and, consequently, in her belly.

"Marian..." he whispered. "Do you mean what I think you mean?"

She wanted to shout, "Yes, yes, yes!" from the rooftop, but that might give him the wrong impression. Instead, she bit her lip and nodded, looking deep into his eyes.

"It is not a wise idea, Marian. My ability to resist fades with every passing day, with every kiss, every embrace."

"Please say you'll come. Even if just for a few minutes."

"But it will not be just a few minutes. You know that."

She nodded; cupping his jaw, she stroked his cheek with her thumb. "Please?" she whispered softly.

The sounds of the household waking up broke the moment and he glanced toward the door, but his shoulders slumped in defeat.

He pulled back and stood. "I shall see you tonight then. Do not make any similar promises to Gisborne, eh?" he said with a cheeky grin.

She groaned and swatted at him.

"Good bye my love," he whispered and disappeared.

_-robin hood-_

When Gisborne arrived mid-morning, Marian was sitting quietly near the window, a small embroidery project in hand; but it lay in her lap as she gazed up at the cloudless blue sky.

"Marian," Guy said in a pleasant tone.

She blinked and focused on the man in front of her. She straightened up and smiled.

Guy smiled back, a soft look coming into his eyes.

She cursed herself. She wasn't supposed to be encouraging him in any way.

"You look quite pleased about something," he said.

Visions of her and Robin had been playing in her mind and she couldn't help the delightful hum within her. Couldn't wait for his return that night. She forced those thoughts aside and cast about for something to say. "Oh, well, I was just thinking of the future." A future when she and Robin would be together all the time.

A wide sincere smile creased Guy's face. He was actually quite good looking when he wasn't all scowly and surly. But he didn't have Robin's boyish charm, nor his innate sense of right and wrong.

"The future?" His tone and his expression turned hopeful.

Damn. A ball of irritation now sat in her stomach. She really would have to watch what she said and how she acted around him. He took the slightest gesture or word to mean so much more than it did. If she wasn't careful, she would make things worse.

"Yes, the future when—" She bit her tongue. She'd almost said when the king returns. _Think, Marian, think... _"...when justice has been served. And life is back to normal. When people do not have to lie or cheat or steal to survive."

Her words hit their mark and he frowned. Whether he remembered where he'd heard them before she did not know, but he didn't like them and his smile faded.

"So you were imagining a future in which what...?" he practically sneered. "In which _Hood_ is absolved of his crimes?"

Oh, no...she'd pushed him too far the other way. Robin's presence made her gay and she was off her game today. Keeping her eyes on his, she surreptitiously drew in a breath and then released it.

"In which there is a new sheriff."

"Me?"

She shrugged and offered him a small, if stiff, smile. If he wanted to believe that was her meaning, then so be it. But almost anyone had to be better than Vaizey. And she suspected Guy wasn't nearly as evil as Vaizey forced him to be.

"If I were to be sheriff, I would need to have a good woman by my side."

Guy's voice took on that soft tone once more and Marian groaned inwardly. She'd done it again. But she decided to ignore his innuendo.

"So, Sir Guy, the sheriff must be expecting you...don't let me keep you." At his frown she added, "I wouldn't want to get you in trouble on my account," and offered him another insincere smile.

He didn't look completely convinced of her concern, but sighed and said, "Yes... the sheriff will be waiting...

"It is good to see you, Marian. I hope your recovery is going well."

She nodded. "Slow, actually."

"Yes, well... I will call on you two days hence. Good day."

With a nod, he strode back out the door and Marian breathed a sigh of relief. Something had to be done and soon. She could not continue entertaining Guy much longer without giving something away, and he had no reason to give up on her, nor could she give him one. It must be fait accompli.

She needed that plan and she needed it now.

_-robin hood-_

Marian awoke to a long deep rumble of thunder. A few moments later, the sky lit up although there was no accompanying crack.

Normally she loved a good thunderstorm, but worry gnawed at her stomach. Robin and his gang were out in this and she had no way of knowing how late it was. The constant growl of thunder drowned out her ability to hear the bells of Kirklees ringing throughout the night. She slipped from the bed and padded to the window and looked out into the darkness.

Cool air washed over her and she inhaled the rain-scented air. Scanning the grounds as best she could when the lightning flashed, she saw nothing. She kept watch for a while longer, but began to shiver from the chilly night air and trudged back to bed. Burrowing under the covers to get warm again, she kept an eye on her window and the sky beyond.

A shadow finally appeared in the window. Marian breathed a sigh of relief and sat up.

"Marian," Robin called urgently. "Wake up."

"Yes, I am here," she replied, jumping from her bed and hurrying to the window. "Come in."

"I a-am soaked," he said shaking his head. "I'm going b-back to camp."

"And you're freezing. Come in here and get warm and dry."

The shake of his head was barely discernible in the darkness. "No, I must get back to ca—"

"Is everyone else as wet?" She touched his arm to find his sleeve dripping wet and unable to hold any more water.

"I w-wouldn't think so. I assume th-they moved to one of the c-caves for the night."

"So they didn't go with you?"

Robin shook his head again. "M-much was with me for a while, but I s-sent him home hours ago."

"So you're the only one traipsing around in a rain storm in the middle of the night?"

He nodded this time.

She grabbed his arm and tugged. "Get in here."

"Mari—"

"Don't _Marian_ me. Get in here this instant and take your clothes off."

Lightning flashed just then and she saw him grin. "Marian, I have n-never seen this s-side of you."

Swatting his arm, she groaned. "Just get in here. I'll get a towel." When she was certain he would comply, she hurried to the linen chest in the corner and pulled out a large length of toweling. "Here," she said, thrusting it into his hands when she returned to his side.

During the next flash of light, she saw that he was shivering quite a bit. His hands trembled so hard that he struggled with the clasp on his belt. But she didn't dare help him.

Finally he said, "Th-there n-now, I'm un-u-un...d-dressed."

"My God, Robin, get in the bed immediately," she ordered, distress rushing through her and making her bossy.

"Ho, ho, Marian, if th-this is what b-bed time will be like once we're m-married, I m-may have to rethink th-things," he said with a snicker.

"Oh, for pity's sake, you're freezing. Dry off and _get in the bed_."

By the rustle of the toweling, she knew he did as she bid.

The next flash of light was one of the brightest and longest lasting ones yet and lit up her whole chamber for several drawn out moments. Robin had the towel on his head, scrubbing the water from his hair, but _the rest of him_ was completely bare. And then it was dark again.

She inhaled, her heart stopped, and pure need rushed to her womanhood. The image of his lean pale body was seared into her memory.

She shook her head. Now was not the time. The poor man was freezing, could catch a chill if he didn't get warmed up soon.

_What better way to warm up?_

She drowned out that small voice by saying, "Are you in the bed yet?"

"Y-y-yes..." he chattered.

"Good." She hurried to the window and closed the shutters and then grabbed another blanket from the chest and spread it out over the bed. Then she climbed in behind him, leaving no space between them, and wrapped her arm around his middle. "How's that?"

"Good," he said on a sigh. He still shivered as his body worked at warming itself up but he was soon still, and they lay in the warm cocoon of blankets.

"Marian?"

"Hmm...?"

"You're awfully comfortable with me in your bed without clothes on..."

Her heart sank. Back to that, were they? "Yes, well, would you rather be soaking wet and freezing in a chilly damp cave?"

"No, of course not, but—"

"No buts. You must get warm and you must sleep lest you catch a chill. What good would you be to anyone if you took sick?"

"You will not get away with avoiding the question forever, Marian."

"I know," she said with a kiss to his shoulder. "But we'll not discuss it tonight. It's late and we both need to sleep, now hush."

He relaxed in her arms and a scant moment later his breathing deepened.

Marian smiled in the darkness... this was how her life was supposed to be. Would be. And soon. She'd spent all day thinking and had finally come up with a plan and tomorrow, after she spoke with Robin, she would set it in motion.


	29. Chapter 29

Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood, Robin, Marian, et al; I have earned nothing but the joy that comes from the writing and the possibility of a nice comment or two.

**Marian: Through the Looking Glass, Chapter Twenty-nine**

Robin woke to find himself warm and comfortable and wrapped around Marian. A place he wanted to wake every morning. He buried his nose in her neck and breathed in the flowery scent of her hair. He'd enjoy this moment for a bit longer and then he'd have to drag himself from her bed and get going.

"Good morning, my love," Marian said quietly. "Did you sleep well?"

"Mmm hmm..."

"How are you feeling otherwise?"

_Aroused_. How else did she think he would be feeling pressed against the woman he loved first thing in the morning? Not his usual circumstance, to be sure.

She rolled in his arms to face him and placed a kiss on his mouth. "Yes, me, too," she whispered. It was still too dark to really see her face, read her eyes, to see the flames that surely burned in their depths and matched the want in her voice.

He'd known this would happen and hadn't wanted to tempt fate. But without her intervention last night, the possibility of him taking sick had been very real.

Her hand in his hair pulled him close, eliminating the space between their faces and then she kissed him. Red hot desire rushed through him. Breaching the warmth of her mouth and taking control, he rolled them both so that he lay partially atop her. Her nails raked his scalp as the kiss continued and a moan of pleasure rumbled between them. Robin didn't know if it had come from her or from himself.

He lost himself in the sensations roiling through him, nudged against her thigh with his hardness, wanting nothing more than to sink into her welcoming body. There was no mistake, she wanted this as much as he did. But as much as that was, it couldn't happen. Not yet.

He tore his mouth from hers and she mewled in displeasure.

"Marian, we must stop. I cannot allow this to happen. Not now and certainly not here." When it happened, he wanted their first time to be special. He wanted them to have guaranteed privacy. He didn't want to be worried about someone walking in on them or over-hearing them.

"I know..." she whispered, her fingers playing in his hair still. "You were right. I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "Do not be sorry for... for wanting this... as long as you want it only with me." He still wanted to know how she came to be so... uninhibited. So carefree when it came to intimacies. He looked forward to being with her and discovering just how carefree and uninhibited she could be, but the how and when and with whom she learned still concerned him.

"_Robin_." She smacked him in the head.

He chuckled. "I'm kidding."

"You better be."

He gave another quick kiss. "Of course, I am. Now... I must go." There were days he regretted ever choosing to follow the king to the Holy Land. Today was one of them. Had he stayed, they would have been married by now, waking together every morning. He slid from the bed and donned his still-damp clothes.

"Can you return tonight?" she asked, slipping from the bed and rounding the end of it. "I finally have a plan, but need to know if you are willing to play a part in it."

"If it means we can marry and finish this..." He gestured between them and at the bed. "...then I am most willing to play a part in it."

"Even if it means kidnapping my father?"

His eyes snapped to hers in the lightening gloom. "What? Marian, are you serious?" Kidnap her father— what was she thinking? But he had no time to worry about it now. He would wait to hear her plan before making any judgements. After all, some of his plans had seemed no less mad.

"I'm completely serious... when can we talk?"

"I do not know. I am still trying to figure out what the sheriff is up to and will be gone again tonight. Maybe tomorrow?"

"Gisborne will be visiting again tomorrow," she said in aversion.

He was glad to hear her antipathy. It eased that niggling voice that occasionally questioned her feelings for Gisborne. The day Robin made her his for good could not come soon enough. On the other hand, when Gisborne realized she would never be his and that she was actually Robin's wife... well, Gisborne would become much more dangerous. And that was a complication they most certainly didn't need.

"You should not keep entertaining him." He would be glad when she was away from here and no longer had to degrade herself in order to keep herself and her father safe.

"Don't you think I know that? It is not my wish, but he does not ask. Just announces his intent. And I have led him to believe my recovery is slow to buy time. So I cannot just all of sudden go riding around the countryside."

Robin sighed. "Right. Then I shall come tomorrow evening. Would it be plausible for you to walk about Knighton, maybe visit your horse in the barn?"

She nodded. "I think I can manage that. Nightfall?"

-rh-

Marian looked forward to Guy's visit even less than usual. Her morning oatmeal sat like a lump in her stomach and she half considered sending a messenger and canceling his visit, but decided against it. Better to get the _social_ _call_ over with so that she could meet Robin that evening and not have to worry about Guy for a few more days.

She wished he would arrive soon, however. She was feeling worse with every passing moment. Her head lolled to rest against the chair back and closed her eyes, hoping the queasiness would abate. It did slightly and she sighed in relief.

Someone clomped into the room and Marian's eyes flew open, her heart fluttering in surprise.

"Marian..." he said with a slight incline of his head.

"Sir Guy..." She shifted in her seat and offered him a tight half-smile. She must have dozed off for a time, but thankfully the grumblings of her belly had eased.

She swallowed a sour-tasting belch and groaned quietly, pressing a hand to her stomach.

Maybe not.

Studying her, he asked, "Are you well? You look a little peaked."

"Oh, no, I'm fine. Really. My breakfast is not sitting well, that is all." Not well at all. Her head felt light and her throat felt tight. And by the look of concern on Guy's face, she guessed she didn't look so well either.

"Shall I pour you something to drink?"

She nodded. Full-fledged nausea now simmered at the top of her belly and she hoped a swallow of something would wash it away.

A moment later, he pressed a goblet of cider into her hand.

"Thank you." She drank it slowly, deliberately. The liquid was cool and felt good going down, but as soon as she was done, the sick feeling returned.

"I am sorry, Sir Guy... but I fear I should have rescheduled your visit..." She placed a hand over her mouth as another bubble of air traveled up and out. "I thought it was passing, but I'm afraid I'm going to be sick..."

Guy grimaced and took a step back. "Shall I fetch your father?"

"Yes, and the basin, too, please..." She pointed to the side board. "_Hurry._"

He shoved the basin into her hands a scant second before she spewed.

Guy took several steps toward the door. "Sir Edward," he hollered.

"Sir Guy, what is it?" Father asked, followed almost immediately by, "Oh my dear..." He hurried to her side. "Are you feeling any better?"

Marian shook her head and closed her eyes again. She felt warm and clammy and wanted to lay in her bed with a cool cloth on her face.

"Perhaps, you ought to take your leave," Father was saying, "I shall send word in a day or two when Marian is feeling better."

"Very well," Guy replied, followed by the slight thud of his footsteps and the jingle of his spurs. Then she heard the thud of hoofbeats fade into silence.

Another wave of nausea rolled through her and she threw up again.

"I'll be right back," Father said.

She nodded, dropping her head back against the chair. She felt a little better now, but still light-headed and a bit flushed.

"Can you make it upstairs, my dear?"

"I shall need some help, but yes."

Hilla, poor thing, stepped forward and took the basin from her.

"Thank you, Hilla," Marian offered.

"Yer welcome, miss." With a quick curtsy she hurried from the room holding the basin as far out in front of herself as she could.

By supper time, Marian was feeling quite herself and had eaten heartily without any sign of upset stomach. And by dusk she was ready to meet Robin in the barn. Her illness earlier in the day had been quite odd, coming out of the blue, but perhaps there had been some spoilage in the oats or some such.

She sauntered down the stairs and toward the door.

"Where are you going?" Father asked.

"I should like to get some air," she said.

"Shall I go with you?" He began to rise from his chair.

"No, no... I'm fine. Really. I shant go far." She grabbed an apple from the bowl on the table. "Perhaps I shall visit Vesper. It's been quite some time since I've seen her."

"Are you certain? You've only been awake a few days. And after this morning..."

Marian nodded. "I feel fine. And I've been cooped up for so long; a small stroll will do me good— some fresh air, some physical activity. I'll be fine, I promise. I'll stay close enough to call out should I need to."

Father sat back down. "Very well."

Marian sighed in relief and went outside.

The evening was cool, the sky dark to the east and filled with needle points of light. To the west, the sky remained lit with the fading colors of sunset. An owl hooted in the distance and a faint breeze rustled the leaves. She took a deep breath and enjoyed the taste of freedom. After taking a casual turn about the courtyard, Marian headed for the barn.

"Took you long enough." Robin pulled her into his arms as she entered.

Arms went about his neck and she lifted her face to accept his kiss. Then she shrugged. "I really did want to stretch my legs on a longer journey than around my bed chamber. I can't tell you how good it feels."

"Trust me, I know."

She looked at him in surprise and then remembered the injury that had returned him to England and to her. "Of course you do. My apologies."

He nodded his acceptance. "Can you make it up into the loft? More importantly, will you make it down again?"

"I'm sure I can, but if I'm gone too much longer, Father may come looking for me."

"Fine." He glanced around the small space and tugged her to the milking stool. "Here sit." He plopped to the ground and sat cross-legged in front of her. "Now, what is this plan?"

-rh-

The following morning, Marian became terribly sick as she had the day before. However, by mid-day, all traces of illness were once again gone and Marian attributed it to spoiled food. Marian wrote a letter to Uncle Bertram and Aunt Sabina in Lincolnshire describing the deplorable conditions in Nottingham and hinting that she was worried about Father and suggested they were considering a move to York.

If that didn't get an invitation to Lincoln for a visit at the very least, she didn't know what would.

That evening after dark, Much came by to pick up her missive and make sure it was delivered.

She was disappointed, to be sure. "Where is Robin?" Marian asked.

"He is in Nottingham, at the castle," Much said as he backed away from her window. "Good evening, my lady."

She watched him descend and walk away. "Much—"

He turned and looked up at her.

"Tell him I said..." What did she wish to say? That she loved him, of course, but could she admit as much to Much? Well, if she was going to live in the forest with them as Robin's... woman... then she'd better get over her reticence right now. "...tell him I love him."

-robin hood-

"Marian, please, let me fetch Matilda. It is the third morning you have been mysteriously ill after breaking your fast. And everyone else has eaten the same thing but not taken sick."

Marian nodded from her bed. She hung over the edge, waiting to see if her stomach would settle down or if it would return anymore of her morning meal.

"Good." Father hurried out and a short time later the sound of galloping hooves faded into silence.

She lay still, closing her eyes and willing the churning in her stomach to abate. She hated feeling this way. She'd much rather have a pounding headache than endure this swirling simmering feeling in her stomach.

"Hello, my dear..."

Marian cracked open an eye to see Matilda leaning over, peering at her. She must have drifted off for a time, thank goodness. Her stomach felt a bit better for the moment.

"How long have you been puking your guts out?"

Marian rolled over onto her back and Matilda settled herself on the edge of the bed.

"This is the third day in a row."

"I see..." Matilda placed a hand to her forehead and neck, turned Marian's face so she could look into her eyes. "Any other symptoms?"

"No." Marian shook her head. "Just terrible nausea followed eventually by vomiting. And then a short time later I feel perfectly fine as if nothing happened. I can eat the mid-day meal and the evening meal without issue."

"I see... Your ankles, are they swollen?"

"Not that I've noticed."

"Breasts tender?"

"No— why would my breasts be tender?"

"When was the last time you had your courses?"

"My courses?" Marian sat up. "I had them a day or two before I woke up..."

Matilda shook her head. "Not in this reality."

Marian closed her eyes and thought back to that day— the day Robin had taken her against the wall. Yes, there'd been blood. But really only traces of it. And she hadn't bled any since. Cold dread filled her and her stomach began to churn again.

Sweet merciful God in heaven.

She met Matilda's gaze.

"Congratulations," she said. "I'd love to be a fly on the wall when you tell Robin." She chuckled.

"You assume it's Robin's?" Marian hands shook and she felt cold all over.

Matilda's thick brows arched over amused brown eyes and she nodded. "Whose else would it be?"

Whose else indeed?

"I have eyes and ears, my dear. I know what goes on in all my villages. And I _know_ what goes on with Robin."

Marian squeezed her eyes shut. She was with child. Her greatest, well, second greatest desire, and her biggest fear. How was she going to explain? "What am I going to do?"

"You're going to have a baby."


	30. Chapter 30

Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood, Robin, Marian, et al; I have earned nothing from this endeavor save the joy that comes from the writing and the possibility of a nice comment or two.

-robin hood-

**Marian: Through the Looking Glass, Chapter Thirty**

She was with child.

Marian paced her chamber. The urge to vomit had dissipated and she felt fine, if a bit shocked over the fact that she was having a baby.

_Robin-of-the-other-reality's baby._

This wasn't really happening to her, was it?

She looked around her chamber at her belongings. Her bed with the lacy netting. The chest in the corner. The hanging shelves. This wouldn't be her haven much longer. Soon she'd be in Lincoln. And in several months, she'd be having a baby.

How was she going to tell Robin? Or her father? Or Guy?

The queasiness returned as she contemplated those conversations. She didn't know which one would be the easiest. Probably Father and then Guy. There would be no need to explain alternate realities. Father would suspect Robin immediately as would Guy.

Marian stopped pacing as a thought came to her.

Why did she need to tell Guy? She owed him nothing. And if she were planning on leaving Nottinghamshire and breaking her betrothal to Guy, then what did it matter?

She sighed in relief. No awkward, pleasing, explosive explanations—no _lies_—to Guy.

But her relief was short-lived and worry replaced it once more.

Robin. She had to tell Robin.

Telling him would be difficult. How was she going to explain alternate realities?

_You did it once, you can do it again._

_Yes, but there was proof. I no longer have any._

_Proof the other Robin had a hard time accepting._

She stilled, going cold all over.

Her plan—what about her plan?

Moisture filled her eyes and a single tear trickled down each cheek. Impatiently, she sniffed back her apprehension and swiped the tear away with the palm of her hand.

There was no time for tears.

As for her plan, did it matter that she was having a baby?

She shook her head.

No, not really. The baby only increased the necessity of her getting away from Knighton and Nottinghamshire. But that meant there would be no living in the forest with the gang.

_There are ways to avoid children._

Her own words rang in her ears. She could go to Matilda and ask for a draught or a poultice. She could rid herself of the child and no one would be the wiser.

A moan tore from her throat.

_No!_ cried her heart.

Tears now poured down her face and her whole body trembled..

Merciful heavens, what was she thinking? This was Robin's child, his very own flesh and blood. She wouldn't, nay, _couldn't_ rid herself of this child.

Through watery eyes, she looked down at her belly, placed a loving hand over it. A life grew there. A childshe and Robin created. A life she realized she wanted more than almost anything. Rubbing her stomach, she whispered, "I'm sorry, baby, for even thinking it."

The knock on her chamber door startled Marian and she whirled around to stare at it. "Who is it?"

"It is me."

Father.

She took several deep breaths to calm herself.

"Matilda said she left you resting, but it is nearly suppertime and I came to see if you were hungry."

Despite her anxiety over having to reveal her condition, she _was_ hungry. She'd fallen asleep and slept through the mid-day meal. Her stomach growled at the thought of the evening meal.

They ate in silence and Father didn't press her about Matilda's visit, thank goodness. She still wasn't sure what to tell him.

When the meal ended, they moved to sit beside the hearth. It was still mostly daylight and the fire was laid but not lit. Sitting quietly for a while, they enjoyed the sounds of early evening and oncoming night; the buzzing of insects and the occasional call of a night owl.

Thoughts of her predicament filled her head. Much as she would like to keep it to herself for a little while, to savor the knowledge—_she was having Robin's baby—_time was not on her side. Her plan for escaping Nottinghamshire and being with Robin, vows or no, had already been set in motion.

She supposed she could keep the news to herself for a few more days, even a couple of weeks, but what would she tell Father? Especially if she kept having spells of nausea on a daily basis. Matilda could not say how long those would last, that it was different for every woman. Surely, Father would figure it out, sooner rather than later.

And she had to tell Robin. Had to tell him first. He was the father after all.

_Not really._

She buried that niggling thought to the back of her mind. There was nothing she could do about the facts of this child's conception. Robin was Robin. Of that she was sure.

But what did she tell him? How did she explain it?

She pushed away the worry. It would do not good to fret over it until the telling was upon her. For now she just wanted to enjoy the evening. Wanted life to be normal. Just for a little while longer.

"What did Matilda have to say?"

Father's voice surprised her out of her thoughts and she jerked her head in his direction. "What? Oh..." She offered him a small smile. "She said she wasn't quite sure." _God forgive me._ "It could be some sort of stomach irritation that remains for a sennight or so. She just said to make sure to eat and drink to keep my strength up. Eventually, it'll go away."

Father nodded, his lips drawn. "Very well."

She got the feeling he didn't quite believe her, but he didn't question her further and the remainder of the evening passed in uncomfortable silence or awkward conversation until Marian finally decided to go to bed.

Robin wasn't waiting outside her window when she got to her chamber and she swallowed her disappointment. She wanted to see him. Maybe he would visit in the morning. She hoped he'd make an appearance soon. She needed to see him, tell him about the babe. But she couldn't yet go in search of him on her own. She wasn't quite strong enough, and even if she were, it wouldn't do just yet for her to be seen out and about.

She paced her chamber for a while, hoping he would come. Finally, she gave up and crawled into bed. But still she fought sleep for a bit longer, hoping against hope that Robin would appear.

Perhaps… Her lids drooped as she gazed out the open window. A cool breeze wafted through her chamber and she burrowed into her blankets. ...perhaps Hilla would venture in search of Robin for her. She seemed like a sweet maid. And a trustworthy one.

Yes… Marian yawned, the warmth of her bed lulling her to sleep. …if she didn't see Robin on the morrow, then she'd send Hilla with a message the day after.

-rh-

"What's this all about then?" Robin asked, his brow furrowing as he looked at her. "It's so urgent that you sent your chambermaid into the forest looking for me?"

Her note had said to meet her in the barn at dusk. She'd walked around the courtyard first to stretch her legs and then disappeared into the barn to wait. The barn was warm and close and the smells earthy and familiar. She hadn't had to wait long, thank goodness.

"Yes." She closed the distance between them and looped her arms around his neck and kissed him. "You didn't visit for several days. I was beginning to worry, and I missed you."

"I missed you, too." His hands slid up her back and his arms tightened around her.

"And I needed to see you."

He pulled back and looked at her. "Is something wrong?"

She glanced upwards and took a deep breath. Her stomach fluttered.

"What is it?" he asked. "Is it that hard to talk to me?"

She shook her head. "Not usually, no. Nothing's really _wrong_, but what I have to tell you will come as a bit of a shock."

"Marian," he said, releasing her, "what is this all about?" He stepped back and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest.

"First I have to tell you a story of sorts, although I believe with my whole heart that everything actually happened. But I have no believable proof at the moment."

"What do you mean _believable_ proof? As opposed to unbelievable?"

Marian nodded. "Yes, the proof I have at the moment is... is suspect and very unbelievable." She sighed and sat down on the milking stool. Her hands twisted together in the folds of her skirt. Meeting and holding his gaze, she said, "You remember when I was unconscious for those three weeks?"

He nodded. "Aye."

"Well, I was only unconscious here, in our world, in our reality, for all that time."

"What do you mean _our_ world, _our_ reality? What other world is there?"

Vesper nickered from her stall and Marian looked in the horse's direction and then back at Robin. "I know this sounds completely mad, but please let me finish. And I don't know what other world there is―an alternate one, somehow."

Robin's brow rose and his mouth opened.

She glared at him and he shut it again.

"In this other world, I woke up within a couple of days of the accident. In this other world, my father was still the sheriff, you never left for the crusades, and we... we were married."

"Well I do like the sound of that," he said with a smirk.

Of course, he did.

"We had children; two daughters and we lived at Locksley Manor."

"So far, this does just sound like a dream, Marian. Just an escape from the reality of what our lives are really like."

"Yes, I know, but there's more. In that other world, our marriage was struggling. Things were not going well. After baby Ellie was born, the other Marian was si—"

"Baby Ellie? The other Marian?"

"Yes, Ellie, Eleanor, after the queen, I suppose. But that doesn't matter right now. The point is that the other me was sick in the head. Matilda called it the after baby doldrums. She was so sad and angry. So much so that she couldn't handle being a mother, couldn't be your _wife_. " She raised a brow as she spoke the word wife.

"The other you? Marian, do you realize how absurd this all sounds?"

Marian made a sound of frustration and said, "Yes, I know how absurd it all sounds. And if I hadn't been in the situation myself, I would be just as doubtful as you are, but please listen to me. _Believe_ me."

"Is this what you're trying to tell me? A story about us in some other world?"

"It's our world, only a bit different."

"What's the point, Marian?"

"The point is, I did not know if I was ever going to come back here to this life. In order to make things right, in order to save that marriage, I had to share a bed with that Robin. I had to..."

"It was a dream, Marian," he said, shaking his head, his brow furrowing as if remembering something.

She jumped to her feet. "It wasn't a dream. It couldn't have been a dream. Because…

"Because I'm going to have a baby... _your_ baby."

Robin's eyes widened in stunned surprise and his head moved slowly back and forth. His mouth opened and closed twice before he finally said, "It is impossible."


	31. Chapter 31

Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood, Robin, Marian, et al; I have earned nothing from this endeavor save the joy that comes from the writing and the possibility of a nice comment or tow.

~ robin hood ~

**Marian: Through the Looking Glass, Chapter Thirty-one**

Robin shook his head slowly, his stomach sinking like a stone, his eyes never leaving Marian's. "That's impossible. We have never made love, Marian. Never even come close to being in danger of creating a child." His voice was tight, controlled, low. His heart thudded slowly, heavily in his chest.

She nodded, looking sincere and earnest and scared. "Yes, w-we―"

"No." He pointed a finger at her and began to pace about the small space. His stomach churned now. "You cannot be with child. It is not possible." He banged his fist against the wall and whirled to face her.

She jumped and he heard a small gasp.

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Marian with child? A child she was claiming he'd fathered. He'd never― they'd never...

He thought she loved him. Thought she wanted a life together.

"I thought you loved me," he almost shouted.

She jumped again, her eyes going wide with fear. "I do love you. With all of my heart. I swear it. Listen to me, Robin, please..." she begged. "I told you… in this other life… I... we... we made love. I didn't know if I was ever coming back home, here, to this life with you and my father. I could not put you― the other you― off any longer. It had been so long since he and his Marian had been... since they'd..."

Other Robins, other Marians, it was just so far-fetched that he didn't know what to think. If she was with child, that meant she'd been intimate with someone else.

A fist tightened around his heart and it hurt to breathe.

How could she? He thought she wanted him. She'd been so loving of late. So eager to be with him. Was it really so she could pass this child off as his?

He never thought she'd do something like that.

Not his Marian. Not the woman he'd loved and known since she was a young maid.

Heat suffused his whole body.

He'd not thought her capable of such treachery.

He paced the barn. She'd been with someone else.

But Marian was still talking. He shook off his thoughts and focused on her.

Her fingers twisted in her skirt. "...been intimate. I did not have her sickness and the other Robin was eager to―"

Robin's brow shot up. "I am sure he was," he snapped, "if your behavior since you woke up is any indication."

She winced at his cutting words and his harsh tone.

He would not feel bad. He was the one who had been wronged. He whirled away from her. "What am I saying? I am not buying your story. You cannot be carrying a child. And if you are with child, then it cannot be mine."

Which meant...

His blood pounded through his veins, his fists clenched, his whole body shook.

"Gisborne!" Robin's voice echoed through the barn and carried out into the courtyard.

Storming from the barn, he broke into a trot. He'd kill that son of a—

He was just about to start running when Marian grabbed his arm and yanked. She skidded for a couple of steps until he stopped, both their breaths coming in shallow pants.

He speared her with his eyes. She swallowed, large watery eyes looked back. "Robin, please, no. I swear, on the child's life, it wasn't Guy." The tears overflowed her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. "Robin, please― I would never try to pass off Guy's child as yours. How could you even think that? I would never agree to share a bed with him."

He grabbed her arms and gave her a shake. "It doesn't mean he wouldn't force you." He'd kill Gisborne if he'd laid a hand on her. Without thought, without regret.

"He wouldn't," she sobbed, shaking her head, burying her face in her hands against his chest.

"Yes, Marian, he would. If he is pushed hard enough, he would. Did he... hurt you? Did he force you?"

Looking up, she said, "No, no, no. I promise you. I swear― he didn't touch me." She grasped at his tunic. "Tell me you believe me. Please... he didn't touch me. He wouldn't..."

He contemplated her words, her tear-filled eyes, pleading voice. And accepted her word with a single nod. "I believe you."

She exhaled in relief. "In about eight months, I'll be able to prove it's a Locksley."

He snorted. If it wasn't Gisborne's bastard, then it was someone else's. His brow rose. "Is that so?"

She nodded.

"How, pray, tell."

She recoiled from his biting tone. "Matilda tells me all Locksley children are born with a birthmark; the girls' show up anywhere, the males show up here." She placed her hand on her own body in the exact place Robin's was on his.

He nodded. "Aye. So you're trying to tell me that when your babe is born it'll bear the Locksley mark?"

"It's our child, Robin."

And so they were back to that, were they? "How can it be our child, Marian, when I had no hand in creating it? Trust me, I'd know if I did. I don't know what kind of sick game you're playing, but I don't find it funny in the least."

"It is not a game, I swear it on my father's life. What do I have to do to convince you?"

"There is nothing, Marian. I know that we have not made love. Therefore, any child you bear cannot be mine. It cannot be a Locksley."

A cry of frustration tore from her throat. "By all that is holy, I swear that the child I'm carrying is a Locksley."

He raised a brow and stared at her for several long moments.

But he could stay no longer. He had to get away. Had to think. "I have to go."

He turned on his heel and ran for the tree line.

"Robin, wait―" she called, her voice catching.

He turned and met her gaze. Fear made her eyes large in her pale face.

"Will you... will you be back?" she asked, her voice thin and wobbly.

His hard eyed bored into hers. With a shrug, he disappeared into the trees.

~ rh ~

Robin slipped into the tree line, into the cool aloneness of the forest. But he couldn't go back to the camp just yet. He had too much to think about and figure out. If he returned to camp, Much and Djaq would hound him until he screamed in frustration. Then Much would pout and Djaq would get that look of disapproval and purse her lips in consternation.

If he didn't return, they'd just assume he had another lead and was pursuing it. Then he could slip in late and go straight to bed without suffering through an inquisition, although he'd have to get through their morning chatter. That would be much easier to navigate, however.

Robin headed for the small glade on the far end of the forest. By the time he arrived, his head throbbed. The words "I'm going to have a baby" whirled through his brain. It couldn't be true. And even if it were, there was no way it was his.

It felt as if he had rocks in his gut. Big stones piled up, weighting him down.

She'd sworn it wasn't Guy's and she didn't act like she'd been raped. He believed that Gisborne had nothing to do with it, at least.

The only thing left to surmise then was that she'd been intimate with someone else.

But who?

And why?

Robin paced back and forth through the long grasses. The sun was dropping quickly and it would be dark soon.

Except she claimed the child would bear the Locksley mark. There's no way. He had no brother. His father was dead. He had no cousins. There was no one else. He was the last Locksley male.

She would not say it unless...

Unless what?

He thought back to the nights they'd spent together once she'd woken.

He would not have taken advantage of her in her unconscious state no matter how groggy he might have been.

Considering her eagerness, perhaps she had taken advantage of him.

Was there any possible way he might have thought he was dreaming when he really wasn't?

He raked a hand through his hair.

No. He shook his head emphatically. He wouldn't have slept through something as... as... as intimate and as physical as lovemaking even if he'd been mostly asleep when things got started.

He groaned. He just didn't know.

Robin dropped to the ground and leaned against a log. He watched as the last remnants of light and color followed the sun below the horizon.

What was he going to do?

That was the question.

On the one hand, he could do nothing.

The whole point of Marian's plan—he thought—was so that they could marry and be together and get Edward out of harm's way.

If she was carrying a child, it most certainly wasn't his and they were not going to be together.

Pain tore through his chest, he hung his head.

How could she?

Every day since his return from the Holy Lands, he'd regretted his decision to go. Regretted leaving Marian and breaking their engagement. Causing that hurt he'd seen shadowed in her eyes on occasion.

Now he knew her pain.

The fates had a wicked sense of humor.

But he thought they'd gotten past that. That she'd forgiven him. That they were ready to move forward and start their lives together, come what may.

He snorted.

Come what may? A child that wasn't his. That was a pretty big obstacle to overcome.

The cool night air dropped and swirled around him. The scent of the forest filled him, gave him strength. He would not be an outlaw forever. Once the king returned, Robin was sure to pardoned and his titles and lands returned to him.

But then what?

On the other hand, if she were with child, she certainly couldn't stay in Nottinghamshire. Gisborne would suspect Robin without a moment's thought and Marian would be in danger. As would the child and Edward.

And despite the whole situation, Robin would not allow Marian, an innocent babe, nor an old man to remain in jeopardy.

So... the plan was a go. In so far as getting Marian and her father to Lincoln and safely to her family there. After that, Robin would return to Sherwood and Nottinghamshire, continue to help the villages and wait for King Richard's return.

And he would put her out of his mind and out of his heart.

**To be continued…**


	32. Chapter 32

Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood, Robin, Marian, et al; I have earned nothing from this endeavor except the joy that comes from the writing and the possibility of a nice comment or two.

* * *

**Marian: Through the Looking Glass, Chapter Thirty-two**

Robin disappeared into the trees and Marian slumped against the barn wall. Tears prickled at her eyes and threatened to start and never stop. She'd known it would be difficult to convince him, but she'd never thought he'd be so implacable.

She took deep breaths to calm the pounding of her heart and then swallowed to push back the nausea that bubbled in her stomach and crept up her throat.

Was he coming back or wasn't he? She honestly didn't know. And that, more than anything, initiated the tears. They rolled down her cheeks in a smooth unstoppable flow.

What was going to happen now?

If Robin didn't come back, how was she going to convince her father to leave Knighton? There was always the truth, and she'd have to tell him of the babe sooner or later.

If Robin didn't come back, what would she do without him? She'd loved him and him alone for as long as she could remember.

He didn't believe her about anything at the moment and she was at a loss as to how to convince him otherwise. Was there something she hadn't said or could have explained better to convince him the baby was a Locksley?

She just didn't know. But what she did know was that her head hurt and her heart hurt and she just didn't want to think about it any further. The day was almost over. Not much more could be accomplished and she just needed a little time to come up with another plan. One that didn't involve Robin.

But first, she needed to calm herself. If she went inside looking like this, Father would question her. And she didn't have any answers at the moment. She wiped away any lingering tears and smoothed her hair and her gown. It would have to do.

With a last look toward the trees where Robin had disappeared, Marian squared her shoulders and marched toward the hall. Her steps slowed and faltered the closer she got, but there was nothing for it.

Thankfully, it was practically dark and the fire in the main fireplace had been lit. Father sat nearby, feet up on a small stool and hands clasped across his belly.

"Is everything all right? You were gone quite a while. I was just considering whether or not to go in search of you."

Marian opened her mouth to speak, but found her throat suddenly dry. She swallowed and then said, "I-I'm fine. Things are fine. But I'm a bit worn out. I think I shall go on up to my chamber."

Father's eyes narrowed as he studied her. "What is wrong?"

She straightened her spine and stuck her chin out. She wouldn't give him any more reason to be suspicious than necessary. "Nothing... I... Robin and I had a bit of a row. That is all. It'll blow over."

Father opened his mouth to speak.

"I don't want to talk about it right now, please."

Father's mouth snapped shut and there was no mistaking the look of displeasure on his face. He offered her a single curt nod.

"Good night, Father," she said and hurried up the stairs. Once in the sanctuary of her room, she donned her nightgown and crawled into bed. The events in the barn played in her mind over and over again. Sadness sat heavy on her heart and worry gnawed at her stomach. Tears filled her eyes and trickled down her cheeks as she cried silently.

What was she going to do?

~rh~

The plan to get Sir Edward to Lincolnshire had gone without a hitch. He and Marian had been safely delivered to Edward's brother and sister-in-law's home four months ago.

Robin's plan to put Marian out of his mind, however, had not been as successful. In fact, it was a dismal failure. He thought of her all the time... wondered how she was doing, how she was feeling, how she and her father fared in Lincoln.

Images of her from various times in their relationship ran through his mind, always ending with her pale tearful face in the barn as he walked out. That was the last time he'd seen her. He'd removed himself from all but the planning. He thought it better that the sheriff or Gisborne see or hear or know that Robin Hood was part of some other shenanigan the day Marian and Edward disappeared lest they think he had any hand in Marian's flight and hold it against her should they ever find her.

_But you ensured the plan was executed and that she and her father, not to mention the babe, were safely removed from Nottinghamshire._

What more could be asked of him?

It was lazy day in the camp. The latest food parcels had been delivered and everyone was doing their own thing. Allan had not returned from his deliveries and Robin knew he'd found someplace to hole up until the following morning or he'd gone in search of a tavern. In which case, he'd find a pretty wench to tumble or come stumbling into camp in the middle of the night.

Djaq and Will had taken off on an errand. Ostensibly to scout locations for a more permanent camp, but Robin had seen the looks passing between them, had noted the pace at which they'd hurried away. A sad longing filled him as he watched them go.

He missed his own stolen moments with Marian. Missed having someplace to escape to when he couldn't take another argument between Allan and Much.

But most of all, he just missed _her_.

Despite the betrayal, the unfaithfulness.

Perhaps, now that the burning heat of his anger had finally faded, he should give her claims some consideration.

There had never been anyone but her in his heart. Not since she'd stolen it all those years ago. Not even before then really.

_You've not been completely faithful to her either._

He sighed and got to his feet, pacing the confines of the camp.

Much eyed him warily.

There _had_ been women in the Holy Land. And on the journey there and back.

_But that was different— you're a man. You have needs…_

The excuse sounded weak, even to himself. Although, if Marian knew or suspected, she'd never said anything. She was not one to keep silent about something she felt was unfair or wrong, especially where he or their relationship was concerned.

_Her_ claim was that she'd had relations with a version of him while in another— What had she called it? —reality?

The idea that there was another world that paralleled their own, though with certain differences, boggled his mind. Marian, however, was not one to make up stories. She was practical and rational and no-nonsense. That fact should have been enough to give him pause. But he'd been so hurt and angry, he'd not been able to think clearly.

Recently, some of what she'd said had finally started to register.

_I didn't know if I was ever coming back home, here, to this life with you and my father._

_In that other world, our marriage was struggling. Things were not going well._

_After baby Ellie was born, the other Marian was sick._

_She couldn't handle being a mother, couldn't be your _wife.

_I did not have her sickness and the other Robin was eage__r to―_

—claim his husbandly rights.

He couldn't blame this other self, if there was such a person. He now knew first hand how it felt to have Marian in his arms and in his bed, strictly speaking. Not that they'd made love, tempted as they'd been. And if they were already married, there would have been no reason not to make love.

Except... she knew she was not really married.

_I didn't know if I was ever coming back home..._

But if— and that was a big _if_— all of this were true, how could he fault her when he himself was not innocent of unfaithfulness? And not just once under unusual circumstances, but many times because he was a man and he could.

Perhaps, had he known what she was like in bed, he wouldn't have sought sport with others. But she was a proper lady— one you waited for marriage to take to bed.

Although that didn't absolve him. He realized that now.

Robin circled the camp. Nervous energy kept him in motion; his thoughts would not leave him be.

He hated being without her. Had wanted nothing more than to marry her and love her forever.

And then he'd done the unthinkable and left her for five years. That was a betrayal of their love, too, wasn't it?

He hung his head in shame. Yes, it was. He'd not looked at it in those terms before.

He could have come home to find her happily married to someone else and no one, not even he, would have blamed her.

But she hadn't.

So how did he have the right to judge her now?

He didn't.

At the first real test of his love, he'd been the one to fail. And he certainly wasn't proud of that.

And he realized that without her close proximity, without her daily presence, his life had become colorless and tasteless and dreary and humdrum. He'd had a taste of life with her and now suffered through existence without her. Life with her a part of it was much preferable.

But how did he get her back? Would she even welcome his reappearance in her life after all these months? After his reaction to her story and the babe?

He must go to her. Even if she ended up sending him away again. He had to try.

Just then, Allan came tearing into the camp. He skidded to a stop and took a couple of deep breaths before blurting, "Gisborne is on the move. Looks like he's heading out of the shire."

"I'll follow him," Robin said, pulling on his winter hoodie and then moving to grab his bow and quiver and a dagger. He turned to go only to find Allan, Much and John all staring at him in surprise. It was the first time he'd had anything directly to do with whole situation since the day in the barn— besides make the decisions, make the arrangements, and give the orders. He shrugged. "I have an errand to perform anyhow.

"Hold down the camp— I'll return as soon as possible." He looked at Allan. "What road was he on?"

"Newark."

The road that led straight to Lincoln. Robin wondered if Gisborne had finally found a clue or if it was just the next stop on his search. Not that it mattered.

Robin grabbed a knapsack filled with provisions and then raced on foot to Clun to secure the horse they'd appropriated. He left a couple of coins on the anvil and took off at a gallop toward the Newark Road. He stayed on the paths within the tree line going as quickly as he dared. He didn't want to go too fast or make too much noise and give away his presence. He finally spotted Gisborne through the trees. Slowing the horse to a walk, Robin kept him in sight.

Gisborne reached the city way before Robin as there were long stretches of road without cover and Robin had to wait for Gisborne to round a bend before he could move to catch up.

When he reached the city limits, Robin left the horse at the nearest stable. Even though Gisborne was on horseback, there was less chance he would spot Robin if he followed on foot. And Gisborne was easy to keep in view on that big black horse though. He had to proceed slowly anyway as there were so many people in the streets. It was market day, at least in this part of the city.

Eventually, Gisborne stopped, but from his position, Robin could not make out what had caught the other man's attention, but noted the look of astonishment and happiness on his face. Robin circled quickly and tried to find whatever it was in Gisborne's line of sight, although he was sure he already knew.

Robin gasped when he saw Marian. Her dark hair was shiny in the winter sun, rosy spots of color dotted her cheeks from the sharp air and a content expression gave her the look of an angel. She moved from stall to stall, talking with the vendors, nodding and smiling. Apparently doing fairly well here in Lincoln. Not that he expected anything less.

Robin glanced at Gisborne and saw the frown now forming on his face. Now what had he seen? Looking back at Marian, Robin knew.

She'd opened her cape to fetch a few coins from her small pouch. There was no mistaking the bulge of her stomach and what it meant.

Gisborne remained a respectful distance away and Robin was surprised that Marian never seemed to catch sight of him. He was one of very few people on horseback.

She finally left the market area and headed down the street toward one of the less built up and less crowded sections of the city. In the opposite direction of her home, Robin was pleased to note, although he didn't know where she was going.

As the crowds thinned, Gisborne trailed farther and farther behind her until he finally dismounted and tied his horse to a tree and continued after her on foot. Robin followed a discreet distance behind Gisborne.

Marian turned down a lane that sported a half dozen single family homes on either side and then into the small fenced yard of one of the houses halfway down. Some sort of noble, if the quality and size of the house was anything to go by. She rapped twice on the door before opening it and going inside.

Robin ducked behind a large tree and waited. As long as Gisborne was there, so too was Robin. Several hours later, as the sun and the temperatures dropped, Gisborne finally roused himself and headed back to town. He retrieved his horse, mounted and turned the animal toward the Newark Road in the direction of Nottinghamshire.

When Robin was fully convinced Gisborne was indeed going all the way back home, he turned around and returned to Lincoln. He had to warn Marian.

He smiled, hope blooming within him. It was just the excuse he needed. Now, did he knock on the front door and ask to see her or did he sneak into her bed chamber? If he went to the door, she might not agree to see him. Better to sneak into her chamber and speak to her in private. Not only that, but it was getting late and her family might not appreciate a visitor at such an hour.

Her aunt and uncle lived in the center house of a row of houses connected together at the side walls. The fronts faced the street and the backs all faced small yards assigned to each unit. Most units, including theirs, were three levels high. He knew Marian's chamber was on the second level at the back, Allan and Much having complained bitterly when they returned from delivering much of her and her father's household goods.

The darkness afforded him the ability to access the yard and her chamber without being seen. Robin now sat inside her chamber waiting for her to appear. He'd found a chest in the corner to sit on.

His heart beat a little faster, his mouth felt a bit dry, and he wiped his palms along his breeches. He hated feeling so apprehensive and he wasn't even sure she'd accept his return to her life. For all he knew she'd moved on. He hoped that wasn't the case, but regardless, he had to take a chance.

He finally heard footsteps upon the stairs and hoped it was her. A moment later, the door swung inward and then closed again. She carried a single candle that cast a yellow orange glow across her face. She moved to the candelabra in the corner and lit the four fat candles. Then she blew out the small taper in her hand and laid it in the candelabra.

Robin stood and took a single step into the light.

Setting her small basket on the corner of the large chest, she pushed the hood of her cape from her head and then pulled the ties loose. With a fluid graceful motion, she whirled the cape from her shoulders. Her movement stalled mid-air when she finally noticed him. Her blue eyes widened and she gasped lightly and then hugged the voluminous garment to her chest.

"Hello, Marian."

**To be continued…**


	33. Chapter 33

Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood, Robin, Marian, et al; I have earned nothing from this endeavor but the joy that comes from the writing and the possibility of a nice comment or two.

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**Marian: Through the Looking Glass, Chapter Thirty-three**

Guy shivered in the cutting winter air as he took in the sights and sounds and smells all around him. He needed a better cloak.

Lincoln was a bustling and prosperous town. Especially compared to Nottingham. He didn't care much for the sheriff's management style, but one did what one had to do to survive and gain power. Guy dismissed those thoughts. Today he was here on nobody's business but his own. Searching for Marian.

The streets were crowded with people and he wrinkled his nose. From his position astride his horse, he could smell them and not even the cold air dissipated the scent of unwashed bodies. Chatter and laughter floated through the crisp afternoon.

He scanned the throng of peasants, hoping against hope. Nothing but drab, coarse wool. Nothing appropriate to Marian's station.

And then he saw a familiar looking hooded cloak.

His heart rate picked up speed, but he shook his head. It couldn't be...

White fur fringe trimmed the deep green woolen fabric. The edge of the hood sat on the top of her head, leaving the woman's face uncovered.

The woman turned and Guy stopped breathing.

_Marian._

Excitement coursed through him, quickly followed by a flash of bitterness and then nothing. Her disappearance had angered him at first and he'd harbored and nursed that anger for many long weeks. He'd been sure Hood had something to do with it, even though the two men had had an altercation the day Marian vanished. The servants of Locksley had suffered for it. A twinge of shame and guilt gnawed at him still though he'd tried to make up for it.

Hood continued to be a thorn in the sheriff's side on a daily basis, always being spotted in one village or another, and Guy had finally come to the conclusion that she'd left him as well. And that thought more than any other was a balm to his bruised pride.

As the months passed, he continued to look for her, but with less and less anticipation. It was more from habit and the principle of the thing that he search for and find her. He'd discovered that without her proximity he was less apprehensive all the time. He didn't worry that she was slinking off to see Hood. Nor did he feel any anxiety over where her loyalties truly lay. Unbelievably, he was happier. He'd never expected such an emotion to be applied to himself.

Guy had heard nary a taunt from anyone but the sheriff, which was to be expected. But even those no longer affected him and the sheriff had finally realized that and desisted. Guy hadn't heard a barb in weeks. He'd even garnered a bit of sympathy from the locals, nobles and peasants alike.

Marian looked as beautiful as ever. If fact, he thought she looked even more so. She wandered from vendor to vendor, talking and smiling. He even dared say she looked radiant. Her dark hair glistened in the bright afternoon sun and her cheeks flushed prettily in the sharp winter air.

Well, he'd found her. But since his epiphany, he'd never thought much beyond that. The search had become routine. He'd just wanted to know where she was. Now he did. So what was he going to do? Approach her and demand an explanation or go on his way and avoid Lincoln from now on?

He continued to watch her as she conducted her business, his lack of any sort of strong feeling toward her curiously absent. She spoke animatedly with a cloth merchant. After a smile and nod, she opened her cloak.

Guy's heart stopped beating and he felt the mad urge to laugh. Out loud.

Marian was with child.

Instead, he chuckled noiselessly to himself.

There was no mistaking the slight roundness of her belly. He knew little of the process but he was certain she hadn't been with child when he'd last seen her, shortly after she awakened from her accident. She'd been weak and weary from her long bout of unconsciousness. She had neither the stamina to go anywhere nor the opportunity to entertain men callers in her chamber for any length of time. Not that she would of course.

Guy shook his head. For once, he was convinced Hood had nothing to do with anything. Which meant he'd been tossed over as well.

Something akin to glee warmed Guy.

After a few more stops and exchanges of greetings, Marian left the market and headed away from the center of the town.

He followed her at some distance but realized that the noise of his horse's hooves would give him away. He hadn't decided if he wanted to confront her not, but he didn't want the decision taken out of his control. He reined the beast to a halt and tied it to the nearest tree and prayed it would be there when he returned.

Guy followed on foot and caught up with her fairly quickly. There were not so many people in this section of town, which looked to be quite affluent, but enough for him to be well concealed should she turn around. The number of bodies thinned to nothingness and he hung way back as she turned onto a small lane. He crept from tree to tree, keeping her in his sights. A moment later she turned up the path to one of the houses. Knocking twice, she opened the door and disappeared inside.

Guy found a spot behind a large tree across the road and waited. And waited and waited and waited. His patience wore thin and yet he waited. As the sun began its descent, a man, a nobleman from the looks of him, cantered up the street and dismounted. He strode up the walkway and into the house, calling, "Jasper, see about my horse."

A hunch-backed peasant rushed from the manor and led the horse around back.

Well.

Well, well...

He could see nothing through the oil parchment in the windows and no one else came or went from the house. After several hours, he could finally conclude nothing but that she'd married well and this was her home.

And then he did laugh. Long and hard.

Marian was lost to both him _and_ Hood. For good. And as long as Hood didn't have her, Guy could care less who did.

He pushed off the tree and went in search of his horse.

-rh-

_Setting her small basket on the corner of the large chest, Marian pushed the hood of her cape from her head and then pulled the ties loose. With a fluid graceful motion, she whirled the cape from her shoulders. Her movement stalled mid-air when she finally noticed him. Her blue eyes widened and she gasped lightly and then hugged the voluminous garment to her chest._

"_Hello, Marian."  
_

"Robin..." she whispered, her heart stopping and then pounding almost painfully in her chest. A dozen things raced through her mind.

What was he doing here? How did he get in? How did he know where she stayed?

He looked haggard. And thin. And wonderful.

She wanted to demand to know what had taken him so long to come 'round.

She wanted to burst into tears.

Most of all she just wanted to take him in her arms. Or have him take her in his and stay there forever. She missed him terribly.

But she did none of that. She held his gaze and waited.

"Gisborne knows you are in Lincoln," he said softly, warily, as if gauging her reaction. "He saw you and knows you are with child. I followed him as he followed you. He waited for you outside a house at the outskirts of town before finally giving up and returning to Nottinghamshire."

Dread coursed through her. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. She licked her lips, swallowed, and tried again. "But how?"

Robin shrugged. "I do not know why he finally decided to try here. But we've been keeping tabs on his comings and goings these past months; following him all over the country. Some trips were obvious attempts at locating your whereabouts, most others were business trips on behalf of the sheriff though he searched for you then as well."

She nodded, a weight settling in her stomach. "How did the sheriff react?"

"As far as I could tell, he made little fuss about you and your father actually being gone, but he taunted Gisborne mercilessly for a time. I think the opportunity to verbally flog Gisborne far outweighed any threat he might have perceived from your leaving or the loss of taxes you no longer pay."

She smiled ruefully. "Of course." She was relieved that the sheriff was no longer a danger to her or her father, but what of Guy? Did he still pose a threat to them. To her? He hated to be made a fool of, and him discovering her with child after they had been betrothed would surely be the worst kind of humiliation.

_Oh, dear..._ Had she been so naïve as to think he would never find her? Regretfully, yes. Of course, when she'd come up with the plan, she hadn't expected to be with child at all. Nor to be living in Lincoln. It had merely been a means to an end; the end being her life with Robin. Probably in the forest. She doubted Guy would have thought to look for her there.

She sighed, worrying the fabric of the cape with her fingers. There was no help for it now. She would have to figure out how to handle it. And she would not ask, _could_ not ask, Robin for any further help. It was her problem and she did not wish to complicate his task in Nottinghamshire any further by bringing more trouble down on his head. Especially since she did not know his true feeling toward her at the moment. Though his appearance spoke volumes. At least to her.

"And what of you?" she asked.

"You look beautiful," Robin said at the same time.

Her heart fluttered at his words. Heat rushed her face and a smile quirked her mouth. Her father and Aunt Sabina had said that being with child agreed with her. She'd been feeling quite plump and out of sorts lately, so to hear those words from Robin was a boon to her feminine sensibilities. He did not hand out flattery as easily as he handed out food parcels and money.

He shrugged. "I am fine. Life goes on in Nottingham, much the same as it has done...except..." He moved toward her slowly.

Their gazes stayed locked as he approached, until he was standing right in front of her.

"Except...?" she whispered, having to tip her head upwards just slightly so as to not break their connection. Her heart pounded harder now and she could hardly breathe. It had been so long since they'd been in such close proximity.

His gaze dipped to her lips. He traced their outline with his eyes. She felt it as surely as if he'd touched them. Without meaning to, she licked them.

He blinked and she heard his breath hitch. His eyes met hers again, and she was pleased to see a bit of passion flaring in his eyes for her once more. Hope blossomed within her. She suppressed her excitement with a deep breath. He still had feelings for her. That was good. She had something to build on.

She'd missed him terribly these last few months, worrying about his safety, wondering how he and the gang were getting on. Wondering if he was ever going to come to terms with what had happened.

Marian had spent plenty of time as she embroidered contemplating the very real possibility of a future without Robin. She did not want that of course. Her dreams and imaginings since girlhood included him. The intimacies she'd shared with both versions of him made any other man unappealing in comparison. She wanted to be with Robin. Was _meant_ to be with Robin. She knew that in her soul.

She missed him appearing in her window at all hours of the day or night. Missed being able to ride into the forest and whistle and then be suddenly surrounded by his men. Missed the stolen moments. Just like this one.

Life here in Lincoln had its pleasantries—life without fear of reprisals or continual tax payments—but it wasn't the life she wanted.

"Are you and the babe well? Are you under a physician's care?" he asked. The spell was broken. At least for the moment.

She shook her head and smiled. "Did Matilda not tell you, then?" Of course, she wouldn't.

He shook his head, puzzled.

"Matilda comes to Lincoln every few weeks. She will deliver the baby."

"What? Really?" He smiled, but then confusion made him pause. "And when the birth pangs begin, how will you get word to Matilda? It is so far..."

"There is an empty cottage in Wadlow. I will take up residence there in another couple of months and await the birth of ou—await the birth."

Robin's head cocked sideways a bit. "But how can you afford it?"

"Father has found gainful employment that pleases him and we are doing quite well, actually. The sheriff here is quite gluttonous and has hired Father to do most of his job while he eats, drinks and debauches. Father thinks that perhaps he could become the sheriff here someday if the king ever returns and discovers Hughes' excesses.

"And despite its uses as a convenient excuse, my embroidery has also brought in a few coins. I have discovered a talent I didn't know I possessed and have put it to good use. The noblewomen around here have taken a liking to my designs and my skill, and since I cannot do much else as my condition progresses nor with a new babe, I am taking advantage of my opportunity."

"I am pleased for you both."

They still stood a mere inches apart. His nearness incited riotous sensations within her, but she dared not put distance between them. "How goes the fight for justice in Nottingham?" she asked softly. Perhaps she could re-establish the moment.

"It changes little from week to week." He studied her face, her hair, her mouth again. "The grand house you went into earlier? One of the noblewomen you work for?"

Irritation flared. "I do not work for them, I work for myself." Unfortunately it manifested itself in her voice.

Robin took a step backwards. "My apologies," he said with a tilt of his head. "Never-the-less..."

_Blast._ She huffed and nodded and swallowed that old familiar impatience with him. It had been a silent but acknowledged issue between them. One she did not wish to carry into any life they would share together. She offered him another smile and said, "No. I am sorry. Lady Canwick is one of my best customers."

"Well then, you'd better warn her. It is her house Gisborne saw you enter. He may assume that it is your home since you were in there for so long. He departed before you came out again."

"How do you know?"

"I'd been tailing him since he left Nottinghamshire. He may return to see you."

Marian nodded. "I will speak with Lady Canwick."

Robin nodded, too.

Marian shook out her cape finally and hung it on the peg. "And you, Robin? How are you?" she asked, turning to face him again. She leaned against the wall, her cape providing a comfortable cushion.

He took a breath and said, "I…I believe you now, Marian."

Her brow rose and her mouth opened though no words issued forth. She was not expecting to hear that.

"I believe that the child you're carrying is a Locksley, though not specifically mine."

She took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling slowly. "Why? How?"

Robin glanced down at his boots and then peeked up at her from under his lashes. "Matilda. She showed me…I don't know how, but she showed me this other Marian and this other Robin. And I…I believe you.

"But even before that, I had come to the realization that something had happened to you and...

"And more importantly that I love you. I do not wish to be without you."

Tears filled her eyes and she rushed to him, throwing her arms around him.

"Robin," she breathed into his neck, inhaled his earthy male scent.

His arms encircled her immediately and it felt so good. Her rounded abdomen took up space between them, but he did not seem to mind.

"I've missed you. More than I thought possible considering how betrayed I felt," he murmured.

She nodded and spoke into his neck. "I've missed you, too." Then she pulled back and looked at him. Desire flickered in his eyes and an answering flame flared low in her belly and heated her cheeks. "Robin…" she whispered before cupping her hand around his neck and pulling his mouth down to her own.

The kiss was tentative at first, just a pressing of lips against one another, but the passion ignited quickly between them as it always did. His lips moved against hers and she opened to him. The kiss was slow and sweet. And she never wanted to let him go.

Eventually, he pulled back and she was disappointed. Of course it would take some time to heal the wounds between them.

"I'd better go," he said, moving to the window. "May I call on you again?"

Nodding, she said, "I'd like that."

And then he was gone.

**To be continued…**


	34. Chapter 34

Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood, Robin, Marian, et al; I have earned nothing from this endeavor except the joy that comes from the writing and the possibility of a nice comment or two.

Author's Note 01: This is sort of an alternate/supplemental version of the middle part of chapter 32—the part where Robin is pondering life with Marian and everything that had happened. Some of that replaces this, but Robin still went in search of Matilda at some point and this is how that played out.

Author's Note 02: These passages came directly from the "deleted scenes" document. Aside from corrected spelling and basic editing, I have done nothing to make it really fit anywhere in the appropriate chapter or timeline. So when you start reading, it won't seem to make much sense at first. I have included it now because so many of you expressed an interest in the Robin/Matilda exchange that I decided to post it as a bonus/supplemental chapter.

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**Marian: Through the Looking Glass, Bonus Chapter 01**

Robin re-entered the camp and went in search of a burlap bag and some provisions.

"What are you doing?" Much asked.

"I'm taking this to Matilda." Robin shoved several vegetables and a loaf of bread into the sack.

Much frowned. "She's not supposed to get another parcel until the day after next."

"Much." John said with a shake of his head.

"Wot? She's not," Much replied, indignantly, settling his hands on his hips. "And those are _our_ stores—not for the villages."

"I know, Much." John grabbed him by the arm as Robin took off towards Locksley.

"Why didn't you just say so?" Much called loudly after him a moment later.

When he reached the gate of her cottage, Robin heard Matilda's off-key singing and smiled in spite of himself. He knocked on the door and the singing stopped abruptly.

Matilda stilled. Who could that be? She yanked the door open and was shocked to find Robin of Locksley on her doorstep. He looked troubled and her mother's heart melted for him. She pulled him into her cottage and then hugged him tightly. "What's wrong, me boyo?"

Pulling from her arms, he held up the bag. "It's nothing. I wanted to make sure you had what you needed."

She looked in the sack nodding and then studied him. Something was bothering him. She'd seen that expression before and she had a strong suspicion as to what it was. "Thank you, but it's not nothing. Apparently you've been moping around for quite some time now. When Much brought my parcel two days ago, he asked if there's some kind of draught he could give you to make you feel better."

A humorless chuckle escaped him. "The king returning and the restoration of my lands and titles would certainly help."

"Well, that would help us all, now wouldn't it?" Matilda chucked him under the chin forcing him to look her in the eye. "But that's not really it."

Robin remained silent.

"I know you too well, Robin. I know you hold your pain close to the vest, but sometimes it helps to talk. So my guess is that you're still upset about Marian. And I know you didn't come here to deliver a parcel that we both know I didn't really need."

Robin sighed and sat at the small table. "It's the babe."

_Interesting._ Out loud she said, "Ah," as she bustled about. She set a bowl of stew in front of him. "Eat." Then she continued to tidy up. She always found he was more willing to talk if he didn't feel he was under scrutiny. Her herbs and medicines had needed straightening out and rearranging for quite some time so she stepped over to the shelves and then asked, "What about it?"

He didn't say anything right away, but she could hear him eating, so she began opening and sniffing her various pouches and vials.

"I don't know if I'll be able to love it."

So either he'd finally forgiven Marian or had accepted her account of what had happened and was considering a future with her once more. Matilda smiled although she didn't allow him to see it. "Why do you say that? You like children and children seem to like you."

"No, I didn't mean that. I..."

Matilda continued to smell and sort. "Well, is it that you don't know how to take care of a child? No one does really—that's more of a learn-as-you-go kind of thing….

"You want some more stew?" She only glanced at him as she asked.

"No; thank you."

"Well, what about the babe then?"

"I am afraid that it will be a constant reminder and that I'll hold the circumstances of its making against it."

"Well that was a mouthful, wasn't it?" She turned to look at him for a short time, but returned to her task. "And what circumstance would that be?"

"Marian's unfaithfulness."

"Was she unfaithful then?"

"You know she was."

"I know no such thing. And neither will anyone else.

"Tell me something...if you had died in the Holy Land, would you have wanted her to mourn you forever? Or would you have wanted her to eventually move and on and find love and happiness with another?"

"Yes, of course I would."

Matilda nodded. "Very well then. And if you'd, for whatever reason, been unable to return to England, would you expect that Marian would want you to make the best life you could wherever you were?"

"Yes."

"And you would want the same for her if the situation were reversed?"

"Aye."

"Well, then, what's yer problem?"

"My problem is that none of that happened."

"Oy. Men." She smacked him on the back of his head and he jerked.

"Ow. What was that for?"

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Fer bein' a man."

He rubbed the back of his head. "Why is that you women can get away with that? If I hit the back of Marian's head and claimed it was because she was being a woman, I'd be in so much trouble."

Matilda just laughed. "Because that's just the way it is.

"Now, back to the issue at hand... you and Marian have never done the deed, as it were, and Marian tells you she's in the family way and that the child's a Locksley. She tells you some cockamamie story about other Robins and other Marians and an alternate reality. And you don't believe her because alternate realities are just too preposterous to be real. And so you jump to the conclusion that she must have been unfaithful."

"She swore to me she wasn't... assaulted... what else was I supposed to think?"

"Marian has loved you since she was a young maid. She never looked at another man—not even Gisborne—the whole time you were gone to the Holy Land. Why on earth would she suddenly decide to forsake you? Don't you think that's a just a wee bit odd?"

"Yes. No. I don't know," Robin exclaimed, jumping to his feet; the chair fell backward to the ground.

"How don't you know?"

"All I know is that the woman I love is having a baby. A baby that isn't mine. I just didn't want to think about it. It hurt too much." His voice broke.

A moment later, though, he was in her arms, his face buried in her shoulder.

"It's all right, my boy." She stroked his head with one hand and his back with the other. "It's okay to be mad and sad and confused, but don't let that stop you from facing the truth."

"The truth?" he said, his voice coming out muffled.

"The truth is it's easier to think that Marian betrayed you than it is to accept that maybe the world and God work in mysterious ways. That the world is not always as it seems."

"Neither are people."

Matilda closed her eyes and took a deep breath and let it out again. "Aye, Robin, you're right. Some people are not what they seem. But some people are. You know that about Marian."

"She is the Nightwatchman."

"But being the Nightwatchman is not contrary to who Marian is, is it?"

Robin remained stubbornly silent.

"Is it?" she demanded with a squeeze.

Robin finally shook his head.

"Are you happy without Marian in your life?"

"You know I am not. And I can accept and forget that she betrayed me but for the child."

"She didn't and deep down in your heart of hearts you know that."

"Tell me...

"Wait a minute... when you came to care for her, you mentioned she was at the tail end of her courses."

"She was. Just a little bit o' spotting left."

"Can you be with child and still have your monthlies?"

"Not that I've ever seen—not without serious trouble."

"And she was unconscious for how long?"

"About a month."

"And I slept beside her each and every night she was unconscious and then several nights after she woke up. So if she became with child during this time, how far along does that make her?"

"Barely a month." Matilda smiled now. He was finally using the brain God gave him to think logically. "Not enough to see anything, but far enough along for her to experience sickness."

"What?"

"Just the normal type many women experience at the onset of a pregnancy. Nothing to worry about."

Robin began to pace the small room. A memory tickling his consciousness... Marian seemingly in the throes of passion will she was unconscious. Twice. He shifted uncomfortably. So, according to her, she wasn't dreaming, it really happened. He wasn't quite sure how to feel about that now. But also, according to her, she'd had intimacies with another version of himself, not with some other man.

And this is Marian we're talking about. As Matilda said, Marian had loved him since she was a lass, she would not just fall in love and then into bed so easily and so quickly. It would be much harder to say no to someone who believed you to be his wife than it would be to a stranger who might understand your hesitation.

"Come with me. Come along." Matilda grabbed Robin's wrist and tugged.

"Where are we going?"

"There's something I want you to see."

"What?"

"You'll see." She continued to pull him along.

He was strong enough to escape her grasp if he chose to, but he didn't. Curiosity and some sort of strange feeling kept him docile for now.

When they entered the trees and Matilda'd found some semblance of a path, she told him to close his eyes. Without question, he obeyed. And she yanked him into motion once more.

They walked for quite some time, walking neither too quickly nor too slowly for the fact that he couldn't see where he was going.

"Stop now and open your eyes," she said after a ten minutes' walk.

Robin did so and looked about him, studying the patch of forest he was now in.

"Do you recognize anything?" Matilda asked.

He knew the forest like he knew the inside of Locksley Manor, or he thought he did. He had to admit he was at a loss. He shook his head. "No."

Matilda breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. Just another few steps then. Come along."

He followed her between a pair of trees and then through an oval-shaped aperture created by tangled, leafy vines.

She stopped once they were both through. "You mustn't say a word, all right?"

Robin nodded. Where were they? He'd felt a coldness pass over him as they'd gone through the vine-covered opening, but now the temperature was normal again. He wasn't spooked or anything, but she'd definitely gotten his attention.

They crept slowly toward the edge of the stand of trees. The very small tributary of the River Trent separated the trees from the small grassy yard behind what resembled Locksley Manor.

A woman who looked suspiciously like Marian sat on a blanket under a tree. A dark-haired little girl of three- or four-years-old romped on the grass with a house maid, and an infant rocked back and forth on hands and knees next to the Marian look-alike.

Robin dropped to his knees to watch. He snapped a twig as he did so and the woman whipped around to look in his direction.

He gasped. She looked almost exactly like Marian, as far as he could tell from this distance, which really wasn't all that far. Except for her eyes. There was a wariness, a sadness that he did not recognize. And he felt her agitation even across the space that separated them. His stomach knotted in sympathetic distress.

The rear door to Locksley Manor opened and Robin stopped breathing altogether.

He, Robin, walked out. Or a twin or a—

"Marian, I am returned."

"Da da da!" shrieked the little girl, running toward the man.

_Claire._ The name popped into Robin's mind. _I dreamt… of us… a family… with daughters…_

This other Robin lifted the little girl and swung her through the air before settling her on his arm. "How are you, my beautiful girl?" He continued his walk toward the other Marian.

Robin groaned. This couldn't be real. But he knew he was awake. He glanced at Matilda. She just smiled and shrugged.

Throwing her arms about his neck, the little girl said, "I'm hungry."

"As am I. We shall visit the kitchen in a minute and see if Cook has a sweet treat she'll give us, all right?"

Claire nodded.

The other Robin set her on her feet and she promptly scampered away. Then he dropped to his knees beside his Marian. Reaching behind himself he presented her with a blue iris. "My lady wife."

She ducked her head, but accepted the flower. "Thank you, my lord husband."

"And how are you this fine afternoon?"

There was a long silence before she spoke. "I am mostly well." Then she took another breath and looked up at him. "I had several spells this morning, but I re-read your letter. And I remembered your words upon leaving and didn't dwell on my fears."

He took her hand and kissed the back of it. "I am glad you told me."

"Now, Claire and I are going to see what Cook might have hiding in her jars. Would you like me to bring you something?"

"No, I'm fine."

"Shall I take Ellie?"

Marian glanced down at the baby who'd since plopped to her belly and rolled over. At the moment, she had a hold of one her own feet and was busy trying to get it into her mouth. Marian shook her head. She said something else but her voice was too low for Robin to hear.

"Very well." Robin stood and called to Claire. She raced back to him and took his hand. They chatted as they returned to the house.

Matilda placed and hand on his shoulder. When he looked at her, she indicated that they should go. Nodding, he got to his feet and followed her back the way they had come. He passed through the moment of coldness again.

"All right, close your eyes again."

"How?" he asked, when they'd returned to her cottage.

Matilda shrugged. "Dunno. But there are a couple of them, a couple of other alternate versions of Locksley and the world around it that I can visit. The more grand-scale people and events seem to be identical such as King Richard fighting the crusades. It is just in the localized setting that differences occur."

"If I did not experience it myself, I would not have believed it."

"You did not believe it. It is my understanding that Marian attempted to explain."

Robin frowned and hung his head. "She did... what was going on? The woman I saw was certainly nothing like the Marian I know except in looks."

"Occasionally, during pregnancy and after childbirth, women are severely affected by the whole ordeal. Some so severe they kill themselves, in extreme cases sometimes the child, too."

Robin was suitably shocked.


	35. Chapter 35

Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood, Robin, Marian, et al; I have earned nothing but the joy that comes from the writing and the possibility of a nice comment or two.

Authors Note: Thanks so much to all of you who have _favorited_ this story or subscribed to a story alert. Your continued interest in this tale makes my day. Welcome to those of you who have recently discovered it.

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**Marian: Through the Looking Glass, Chapter Thirty-four**

"How are we to be married?" Robin asked, raking a hand through his hair and pacing the length of Lady Canwick's small solar. Lady Canwick and Marian had developed a friendship, and the lady had been gracious enough to allow Robin and Marian use of her solar as a meeting place as they worked to mend their relationship.

Robin continued, "Everyone who could possibly perform the ceremony has heard of Robin Hood. Either they will refuse to marry us for fear of reprisals or they will tell everyone that they have done so. Word will get back to Vaizey and Gisborne and you would be in danger again."

It had been a month and a half since Robin had shown up in Marian's chamber warning her about Gisborne. The gang had not seen Gisborne ride toward Lincoln since that day, but she was not completely convinced they'd seen the last of him. However, her move to Wadlow in preparation for the birth was just another month or so away. If Gisborne turned up after that, he would not find her again and she hoped he would give up once and for all.

In the meantime, she and Robin had worked through their differences and eventually Robin had proposed again. And she had accepted again. It was just a matter of making the arrangements.

Marian caressed her stomach, her hand moving in large slow circles. "We could ask my father. He could do it as Sheriff Hughes and he certainly wouldn't say anything."

Robin stopped and looked at her, shaking his head. "No."

"Why not?"

He resumed his short trek across the room. "Because. He has barely forgiven me for arranging his kidnapping or getting you up the duff. And despite the babe, I do not think he would be very happy to see us wed."

It was true that Father had not been overly pleased at Robin's return to their lives. Marian rose from the padded chair and stopped Robin mid-pace. She looped her arms about his neck and rested her forehead against his. Looking deep into his eyes, she said, "It does not matter if he is happy about it. We are meant to be together and he will come around."

"I know, but—"

Marian pecked him on the lips. "No buts—_oh_."

Robin's eyes widened and he looked down at her rounded belly between them. "Was that...?"

She nodded, smiling at the wonder on his face. Taking his hand, she placed it against her stomach where the movement had happened and proceeded to make small circles over that area. A moment later, the babe responded to the stimulation once more.

He met her gaze, wonder shining in his eyes. "That's amazing. Does it do that often?"

She nodded. "Quite a lot actually. Especially when I am trying to sleep. Very much like another Locksley I know." Over the last fortnight, he'd begun sneaking into her chamber _very_ early on Sunday mornings and spending the remainder of the night curled around her. She had been unable to convince him, however, to do anything other than sleep. Not in her aunt and uncle's home and not down the hall from her father's chamber. He could be remarkably stubborn. Perhaps this coming Sunday, she would feign illness and skip Mass. She smiled to herself at the thought.

"I dunno who you mean," he said with a chuckle.

"Let's not get married then," Marian suggested. She cared little for the propriety of it all. She was his and he was hers and no ceremony or words were going to make a difference one way or the other.

Robin looked at her wide-eyed and open-mouthed. "What are you saying?"

"Calm down. I'm saying we just _be_ married." She shrugged. "We tell people we were married and then just be married. No one's going to ask us for proof. And we do not need someone to tell us what we already know. That we are meant to be together. That in our hearts we are already married."

"_Marian_."

"Ro-_bin,_" she mimicked with a shake of her head. She didn't understand his reticence. "Do you think John of York and Beatrice feel any less married because you performed the ceremony rather than the sheriff of York?"

"No, I suppose not."

"If it matters not who performs the ceremony, why don't we just say our vows to one another before God and be done with it?"

He took each of her hands in each of his and kissed them. "Are you sure of this Marian? I do not want to rob you of a memorable wedding day."

"I do not need a fancy gown or a churchful of people or a man of God officiating. I need you. I _want_ you. I just want to begin our life together. That is all."

Marian finished braiding the daisies together and placed the wreath of flowers on her head. The baby rolled within her as she traversed the length of the small two-room cottage that was now hers and soon to be Robin's as well. Sort of.

Sometimes.

At night. But she could live with that. At least for now.

She'd taken up residence just over a week ago and the villagers had been very welcoming. Wadlow was one of the small villages on the very outskirts of Robin's holdings. She had not come this way often, even as the Nightwatchman, and they did not recognize her. Unfortunately, they did know Robin and his men, so he would be unable to openly visit her. Eventually they would have to do something about that, but for the moment, she was content with the plan.

And today...

Her heart beat hard in her chest.

Today, she and Robin would be married.

And in less than two months, they'd have a baby.

A loud knock sounded on the door.

Marian whirled around, her heart pounding even harder.

"Marian, it's me," called Much through the door.

She laughed, both in relief and in happiness. Much was giving her away. They had not told Father they were getting married. What he didn't know couldn't hurt him nor did she want his disapproval marring her wedding day. "Come in," she called.

The door opened slowly and Much peeked around it. He smiled, his blue eyes twinkling merrily.

She beamed in return. "Much, you look so different, better without that awful hat thing you wear all the time. And you've had a bath? Is that roses I smell?"

"Yes it is," he said with a sure nod. "Are you ready?"

She looped her arm through his. "I have been ready for six months, Much."

"Of course." He led her out of the cottage, through the village and into the forest.

The gang had prepared a small glade. Garlands of flowers hung on and between the trees. A small table was covered in sweetbreads and other treats. The sun was high in the sky and its rays filtered through the trees spotting the area with bright dots of light.

They waited in a group, flanking Robin on each side. There were smiles on every face as she and Much approached.

Much placed her hand in Robin's and stepped back. Clasping hands, she and Robin faced one another as everyone moved to form a circle around them.

"Thank you for coming today, my friends," said Robin solemnly, though he had eyes only for her

"Yes... thank you," Marian echoed softly, her gaze never leaving his.

Birdsong and the buzz of insects filled the silence for a few moments. A soft wind whispered through the trees, doing nothing more than caressing everything in its path.

Finally Robin spoke. "We are gathered here in the presence of God and our friends to join ourselves in holy matrimony. If there is anyone with just reason why we should not do so, please speak now or forever hold your peace."

No one said anything and Robin smiled and chuckled a little, glancing away from her, the combination of which indicated he was feeling somewhat bashful.

"Go on then," Marian encouraged on a whisper. This was it. The moment she'd been waiting for.

He nodded. "Right...

"I, Robin, take you, Marian, as my lawful wedded wife and mother of my child. To love and to cherish and to protect all the days of my life, so help me God."

Marian's heart melted at his words. Publicly accepting the child as his surprised and pleased her. She appreciated the gesture, though no one but Matilda knew the real story.

Much cleared his throat and whispered, "Marian, now you."

She sensed the amusement more than she heard the stifled giggles. But she glanced at Much and nodded. She was just as eager to be wed as he was to eat.

"I, Marian, take you, Robin, rightful owner of Locksley and lord of my heart, as my lawful wedded husband. To love and to cherish and to protect all the days of my life, so help me God."

The love shining in his eyes took her breath away. Tears of joy filled her eyes and tickled down her cheeks.

"Hey now, what's this?" he asked softly. Releasing her hands, he cupped her face and brushed away the moisture.

"We are man and wife now," she said.

"Well, not until he's kissed you," said Much and everybody laughed outright this time.

"We'd better kiss then," he whispered as he closed the distance, his eyes flicking to her lips just before his lids swept shut. His mouth met hers, his lips brushing hers softly at first and then more insistently. She parted her lips allowing him to deepen the kiss. Long and slow and sweet.

The gang whistled and clapped and cheered until she and Robin finally broke apart. Marian wanted nothing more than to go back to the cottage and begin the honeymoon. Robin had been adamant about not making love again until they were married and she'd been unable to convince him. Even that Sunday she'd skipped Mass and climbed naked into bed. He'd jumped out of it as if he'd been burned and refused to get back in until she'd donned her nightgown again.

"I _now_ pronounce us man and wife," he whispered in her ear.

She threw her arms around his neck and he whirled her around in a circle. Then they joined the gang at the treat table.

A short time later, Marian feigned weariness and was encouraged by everyone to return to the cottage.

"Come, my love, let us go home," said Robin taking her by the hand.

"How long I have waited to hear those words..."

They meandered through the forest talking, stopping occasionally to kiss as they went. When the edge of the village came into view, Robin stayed in the trees and circled around to the back side of the cottage while Marian walked through the center of town. She gratefully entered the dim quiet, a bit more tired than she'd thought, and closed the door with a sigh. But she wasn't about to put off their much longed for and much anticipated love making.

Robin wrapped his arms around her from behind and pressed a kiss to her neck. "Alone at last."

Turning in his embrace, she hummed in pleasure. "Mmm... yes." She'd been waiting for this moment for so long, not just the weeks since he'd proposed, but for months since her encounters with the other Robin.

Robin scooped her up and she squealed. "Robin, I'm a cow, put me down."

"No chance, my love. I could not carry you over the threshold of the cottage but I can certainly carry you to the marriage bed."

With another lingering kiss he did just that.


	36. Chapter 36

Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood, Robin, Marian, Matilda, et al; I have earned nothing from this endeavor but the joy that comes from the writing and the possibility of a nice comment or two.

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**Marian: Through the Looking Glass, Chapter 35**

Robin slipped from bed into the chilly darkness as quietly as he could, but it was no use. Marian groaned and he heard rather than saw her roll over.

"Is it morning already?" she asked, her voice soft and thick with sleep.

How he longed to crawl back under the covers and curl around her, soothe her back to sleep and enjoy the feel of her in his arms. But alas, Robin Hood had men to lead and work to do. Robin the husband got short shrift. He sighed.

"Afraid so, my love," he said, pulling on his breeches and tunic. He hated waking her and tried his hardest not to. But she always seemed to sense, even in her sleep, his impending departure. She'd slept uneasily this morning, though. Her tossing and turning and soft grunts had actually woken _him_. The fuller's cock had yet to sound the daily alarm and the sky beyond the shutters was still inky.

Crouching beside the fire pit, he coaxed a small blaze to life. Once the tiny log caught, he returned to perch on the edge of their bed and placed a hand on the mound of Marian's belly. It felt hard as a stone. That concerned him and he resisted the urge to frown. He did not want to alarm her unnecessarily. "How are you feeling? Any pain?"

She shook her head and closed her eyes and sighed. Her eyes popped back open a moment later. "Fine, I suppose. Achy and uncomfortable, but that's been true for a week now."

"Right, then. I'm off. I'm going by Matilda's and have her come check on you."

"I'm fine."

He shook his head, brushing her hair back from her face. "What if you're not? I don't want anything to happen to my two best girls."

"You don't know it's a girl," she argued, though listlessly.

That added to his worry. "You don't know it's not," he said with a wink and a playfulness he did not feel, just as they'd shared the same exchange many times in the last two weeks. He leaned in and kissed her tenderly on the forehead and mouth. "I shall see you later."

Marian watched him until he disappeared from view, though that didn't take very long at all. She heard the familiar sounds of him climbing out the back window and closing the shutters and smiled. In the month and a half since they'd exchanged their vows, they'd lapsed into a routine. Robin would slip into the cottage well after dark. She was usually in bed already, but working on a piece of embroidery. Sometimes they'd talk, occasionally they'd make love, although not for a week now, and every once in a while he would just fall into an exhausted sleep. Except for Sundays, he was always up and gone before the cock crowed, leaving her as he had this morning, with a tender kiss and a small fire crackling and glowing in the pit. On Sundays they would linger in bed, talking and catching up, snuggling and finding pleasure in each other's arms before he left for the day.

It wasn't the ideal solution, but she was content with it. For now. Until the king returned and pardoned Robin and the gang. Then everyone of them could live a normal life again. But that day was a long way off.

Marian sighed. In the meantime, she faced another long boring day of pacing the cottage, tending her small garden, and piddling with her embroidery. She'd been restless for the last week or so and, during her visit just yesterday, Matilda said that could be indicative of the child's impending arrival.

Marian hoped so. Much as she had enjoyed being with child, she now just felt ungainly and uncomfortable all the time. And she was ready to hold her babe in her arms, to have it suckle at her breast. The memory of Ellie at her breast in the other reality flashed through her mind and she smiled. It wouldn't be long now.

She allowed herself to doze off again for a time. When she awoke, there was light between the shutter slats. She forced herself to rise even though she felt she could sleep still longer. Drawing on her loosest gown, she waddled slowly around the cottage, stopping often to catch her breath as she tidied up, although there really wasn't much to do. Then she went outside and sat heavily on the bench next to the cottage. The morning nip felt wonderful. Resting her head against the cottage, she watched the sky brighten as the sun began its daily journey.

Matilda enjoyed the walk from her own small cottage at the outskirts of Locksley Village to Marian's in Wadlow. She'd made the trek every other day for the last two weeks, twice a week before that, and once a week prior to that. Her gowns hung more loosely on her frame than they had in a while and that pleased her greatly.

The morning air was cool and crisp and the birds twittered merrily from their hiding places amongst the foliage. The sun would crest the trees any time now. Much as she would have liked to tarry, she had a sneaking suspicion that today was the day. If Marian's birth pangs hadn't begun, they would soon enough. And Robin's worried visit before dawn had prompted her to go this morning rather than waiting until mid-day.

Matilda rapped on the cottage door and waited for Marian's welcoming response, but there was nothing but silence.

Except... beyond the birds and the insects and the low hum of life from the rest of Wadlow's inhabitants, Matilda heard a groan. She didn't give a second thought to barging into the cottage. Looking about, she didn't see Marian anywhere in the main room. _So it's begun._

She hurried toward the small bed chamber to find Marian curled up in a ball on the cot, face flushed and damp tendrils of hair stuck to her forehead and cheeks.

Nothing looked too terribly wrong, so she pushed away the tiny knot of fear until she could take stock of the situation. "Hello, dear," she said cheerily. No sense in worrying the mother unduly.

Marian breathed heavily through her mouth twice. "The babe..." she gasped.

Matilda perched on the edge of the cot and placed a hand on Marian's forehed. No fever, just sweat. So far, so good. "So I see. The pains been going on long?"

"An hour, perhaps..." She lapsed into another groan and the next wave of pain washed up and over her. She closed her eyes.

"Looks they're coming fairly steady. Not much time between them?"

"Just. A. Little." Each word was punctuated by a harsh breath.

"Well, let's have a look at you then." Once the next pain passed, Matilda helped Marian out of her gown, leaving her clad in nothing but her thin undertunic and settled her back into the cot. After waiting through another pain, she looked at Marian's nether regions. Matilda took in a deep breath of relief. Marian wasn't too far along and everything looked normal. "I don't see anything yet. Have you had a rush of liquid?"

Marian shook her head briskly. "It hurts," she groaned.

"I know, my dear, but there's no gettin' around that part." She patted Marian on the leg. "Now, I'm going to get ready for the birth—boil some water, grab some clean linens, and send a messenger after Robin. Sit tight for a moment."

"Where would I go?" Marian asked breathlessly.

Matilda chuckled.

~~ rh ~~

_Marian was having the baby!_

Robin rushed through the forest toward home, navigating the forest quickly and easily. He'd had a nagging feeling all morning that he shouldn't have left Marian. Or that he should have returned to her after going to Matilda's.

Well, there was no time for regrets or second thoughts now. The babe was coming and he wanted to be there. He ran faster, as if the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels, calling out to Much and Djaq when he saw them.

He skirted the village, but rather than climb through the back window, he scooched alongside the cottage and peeked around to the front. Seeing no one, he made a break for the front door and slipped inside.

A long low moan ending in a strangled scream pierced the air.

Robin froze. Fear gripped his throat in a stranglehold. His heart plummeted to the ground and ceased to beat.

_Marian._

He was in the doorway to the bed chamber a moment later.

"Marian," he exclaimed in worry and relief.

Both Matilda's and Marian's heads jerked up and they looked him.

"It's about time you got here," Matilda said, not unkindly, and turned back to her patient.

Robin's jaw dropped. "I got here as quick as I could."

"That's it... breathe, luv," Matilda crooned to Marian. "The baby's crowning. Just a wee bit longer..."

Marian was propped in the corner on the floor, her face red and flush. Sodden clumps of her dark hair stuck to her face and forehead. Her mouth was pursed and her cheeks puffed out as she breathed in and out in short ragged pants.

The pale circle of the babe's head was visible at her center. A pink-tinged mess puddled on the blanket below.

"Are ya done gawkin' yet?"

He raised his gaze to Marian's once more. His stomach clenched to see her in such pain. _He_ hadn't done this to her, but he might as well have. Would have, if circumstances had been different. Guilt, fear and remorse coalesced and made him waspish. "Why is she on the floor?" he demanded, dropping to his knees beside her, brushing her hair back from her face. "Wouldn't she be more comfortable on the bed?"

"Deliver a lot of babies, do ya?"

"Of course not, but—"

"But nothing." Matilda looked at Marian. "Just a couple of more pains and pushes at the most and the head will be out, all right? The rest will be relatively easy in comparison."

Robin turned his attention to Marian. She breathed a bit easier for the moment.

He took her hand. "Marian, my love... I am sorry. I am here..." He shook his head. "I am in awe."

All of a sudden, she cried out sharply. The next pang was upon her.

Robin flinched. He wanted it to end. "What can I do?" Robin looked to Matilda.

"You can support her shoulders, help her lean forward a bit as she pushes. That'll help force the baby down and out."

Robin nodded. He shuffled on his knees and gently tucked an arm around Marian's shoulders. "Am I hurting you?"

Marian shook her head, breathing harshly through her mouth.

"Here we go, Marian, pant and push through the pain. You're almost there...

"Good, good...

"Pant and push, that's it, harder, just a bit more. Robin a little more pressure, let's get the head out with this one."

Marian moaned.

"I know, luv, I know... almost there, I promise..." Matilda reached down and slid a finger around the edge of the baby's head, slipping it under the lip of Marian's body and easing it away from the baby's head.

Robin watched in fascination as the head continued to push forward, growing larger by the moment.

"Here she comes, luv, come on— can you push a bit harder? Robin, help her."

"No— I— can't," Marian bit out.

"Yes, you can, come on now.

"Robin."

Robin nodded and forced Marian forward a little further. "Come on, Marian, you're amazing. You can do this. I know you can."

Marian released a rough groan from deep in her throat and then collapsed backward gasping for breath.

"That's it," Matilda cried. "Head's out. With the next pain and some gentle pushing we should have a baby." She removed the soiled cloth and slid a length of clean toweling under the baby's head. "Here we go... deep breath and push."

Marian took a breath and pushed.

Matilda eased out one slippery shoulder, turning the baby as she went. The other shoulder appeared and the rest of the babe just slid right out of Marian's body into Matilda's hands. She lay the baby gently on the toweling. "It's a _girl_."

With a warm wet cloth, Matilda quickly and deftly cleaned the baby up, eliciting pitiful mewlings of protestation from her. She wrapped the toweling snugly around the babe. "Here you go. Go on in the other room and get to know your daughter whilst I finish up with Marian."

Nerves fluttered through Robin's stomach as Matilda placed the bundle in his arms. With a last look at Marian, he went into the other room. The baby wiggled a bit and finally settled, her eyes closing.

Robin contemplated his new daughter.

Her face was red and splotchy and a thin layer of dark hair covered a misshapen head. _Probably from the birth process._ He hoped. One hand was tucked up under her chin, the tiny fingers curled around the edge of the wrapping.

He was awed by this brand new life. A life he technically had no hand in creating, but was falling in love with as the moments passed.

"I'm a father," he murmered as he ran the tip of his own large finger down the fragile minute length of hers.

As if hearing his voice, the baby's eyes blinked open sleepily and she looked at him. Sort of. Perhaps. Her eyes didn't seem to focus quite yet.

"Hello, baby. I'm your da."

She blinked and her little pink mouth puckered and moved as if she were tasting something.

Love rushed through him for this little baby girl. He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"Robin, I think Marian's ready to see your daughter now."

Robin entered the chamber and placed the baby in Marian's waiting arms. The baby slept peacefully for the moment. Climbing onto the bed, he sat next her and looped an arm around her shoulders. He kissed her on the temple. "She's beautiful, just like her mother."

Marian looked up at him, tears welling.

"What's this now?"

She shrugged. "I don't know... I just... I'm so happy and tired and happy."

"What shall we call her?" Robin asked.

Marian sniffed back the tears. "I was thinking... Phillippa..."

"Marian..." Robin said softly. "That was my mother's name."

She nodded.

"Are you sure? What about your mother?"

"We can name the next girl after my mother."

Images of what he'd just witness flashed through Robin's brain. "There's not going to be another one. I cannot ask you to go through that again."

Marian gazed up at him, a soft tired smile playing on her lips. "So we're never going to make love again?"

Matilda snorted from the corner where she still worked on tidying up.

"What?" Robin looked at her, raising a brow.

"Well, how else are we going to prevent another child?"

"There are ways."

"Oh, really?"

Robin nodded.

"Why don't you not worry about that for a couple of lunar cycles," Matilda suggested as she rose to her feet.

"_What?_" Robin asked again, alarmed.

Matilda laughed. "Your wife's body has just gone through a serious ordeal. It needs time to recover, to return to normal. I'll examine her every fortnight or so, make sure she's feeling well, make sure the babe's growing like she's supposed to. If everything is going well in a month, then mebbe you can start foolin' around."

Robin grinned.

"_A_ _bit,"_ Matilda emphasised. "Now, I'm off. Congratulations, she's a lovely baby."

Robin walked Matilda to the door and hugged her. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. But let Marian rest, you hear me?"

"Yes, yes. I will. I _will_."

With a final nod and a smile, Matilda left for home.

Robin returned to his little family. Marian gazed down upon their daughter who now suckled at Marian's breast. Love filled him until he thought it would explode through his chest.

And as he leaned in the doorway watching the scene, it struck him...

This. This, here, was the glory he'd sought all along: a loving wife and precious children. This was all he needed, all he wanted. And now he had it.

**~ Fin ~**


	37. Epilogue

Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood, Robin, Marian, Guy, et al; I have earned nothing but the joy that comes from the writing and the possibility of a nice comment or two.

**Marian: Through the Looking Glass, Epilogues**

_The version of Robin and Marian we know and love…_

Robin came hurrying through the door, his gaze taking in the whole room in a single sweep; it returned to his daughter, who was the only one there.

Pippa wobbled on her chubby little feet as she took a couple of steps. "Da!" she called when she spotted him and then promptly fell on her bottom.

Robin grinned at her. It was hard to believe it had already been a year and half since her birth. He loved coming home and being greeted by his women. Speaking of his women, one of them was currently missing. Robin scooped her up and planted a kiss on her cheek. "Pippa, my love, what are you doing here all by yourself? Where is your mother?"

Pippa smiled and patted his cheeks and said, "Mama."

"Yes, Mama. Where is she?" He glanced around the room again and then toward the stairs before heading for the kitchen.

He'd been anxious all morning. The feeling that something was not right at home would not leave him. Marian was still a month away from having the baby, so it shouldn't be that. He'd finally handed over his morning hearings with the local villagers and left the castle in Much's capable hands.

Cook looked up from her chopping at his entrance. "Oh, Master Robin, there ye be. So Thornton finally found you. Thank goodness."

"No, Thornton didn't find me. What's going on and why was Pippa all alone in the front room?"

"Oh dear... Lady Marian has taken to the childbed. Been havin' pains for a wee while now. Thornton went to fetch Matilda and then to the castle to get you."

"_What?_" But before Cook could say anything further, Robin raced from the kitchen and clumped up the stairs two at a time with Pippa's squirming body in his arms. Bursting into his and Marian's chamber, the door flew open and banged against the wall.

A collective gasp sounded and four sets of eyes landed on him.

"Mama!" Pippa chirped, clapping again. Then she wiggled harder and pushed against Robin's chest to get down.

"Oh, mercy me—Pippa!" exclaimed Leah. The flustered housemaid left the bedside, plucked the baby from his arms and whisked her out of the room.

"And what are you doing here?" Matilda asked.

He arced a brow. "Seeing about my wife. I was present for Pippa's birth. Why should I not be present for this one?" Robin rushed to the side of the bed Leah had just vacated.

"You're the sheriff now, not an outlaw living a secret life in a peasant's cottage," Matilda retorted. "Normal husbands wait outside or at the local tavern."

"Well, I've never been a normal husband, have I? Why should I start now?"

Matilda snorted in amusement.

Robin turned his attention to his wife. He took Marian's hand and kissed her brow. "Is it terrible?"

Marian's hair stuck to her forehead, and each plump cheek was flushed pink from her exertions. She shook her head. "Not too unbearable at the moment."

"All right then, time to get her moved to the pallet on the floor."

"Again?"

"Unless you want your fancy nobleman's bed ruined from all the gunk that's preparin' to come from your wife's body."

Robin made a face at Matilda and then helped Marian disrobe and get settled onto the pallet.

"It's another girl," Matilda announced over an hour later.

Marian had collapsed against Robin, breathing heavily, while Matilda cleaned up the wailing waif. This daughter was smaller than the last and had a full head of dark hair like Marian.

"This one's got a set of lungs, that's for sure." Matilda jiggled the babe and looked to Marian. "Are you up for a try at feedin'? Might be she needs something to comfort her after all that work of bein' born."

"I did all the work," Marian puffed, but nodded and Matilda handed the child to her. A moment later, the baby suckled noisily.

"Does she have a name yet?"

Robin glanced down at Marian. She offered him a tired smile.

"Kate," said Robin, "after Marian's mum." He hadn't forgotten their agreement, such as it was, after Pippa's birth.

"Pippa and Kate. You've got your hands full, me boyo," Matilda said with a chuckled and a shake of her head.

Looking down again at Marian and their newest daughter, Robin had never been happier.

The king had finally returned from the Holy Land. It had taken some time for him to reach Nottingham, but reach it he finally had. Justice had been served as Vaizey and Gisborne were dispatched to London. Robin later heard Vaizey had lost his head on Tower Hill and Gisborne remained locked up in the Tower itself.

The entire gang had been pardoned. Robin had been ensconced as sheriff with Much as his lieutenant. Nottinghamshire as a whole, after six months now, was finally starting to show signs of recovery, if not prosperity.

Allan had taken over the Tripp to Jerusalem Inn after it was discovered the innkeeper had been a spy for Vaizey. Will and Djaq had married and taken up residence back in Locksley where Will took over his father's position as carpenter extraordinaire, and Djaq hooked up with Matilda to meet the locals and learn more of the medicinal qualities of the plants and herbs native to the local area. Much had finally tracked down Eve, and they were living happily at Bonchurch with Eve having just announced they were expecting their first child.

Robin sighed. He couldn't regret what they'd gone through to get here. What they had now was so much more than he ever dreamed.

~ Fin ~

_The (first) alternate universe Robin and Marian…_

Claire and Ellie scampered about the small meadow, shrieking with laughter.

It was the first relatively warm dry day they'd had this spring and Marian was delighted to be out of the house. The girls had been going mad being stuck in the manor for so long, as had she herself.

When Robin suggested a picnic after Mass she didn't hesitate to agree. They'd eaten a lovely luncheon and now Robin lay on his back, legs crossed at the ankles and his hands tucked behind his head. His eyes were closed against the sunshine, but he was not breathing deeply enough to be asleep.

Eventually, the girls tuckered themselves out and came to sit on the other blanket. Claire toted an armful of daisies and Ellie carried a crumpled handful. Marian had taught Claire how to braid the flower stems to create a wreath and now Claire was trying to teach Ellie.

Marian's heart nearly burst from the love that filled her heart, both for her daughters and for her husband. Never had she thought she'd ever feel this way. She blinked away the tears that filled her eyes. Several escaped and slid down her cheek and she dashed them away with the back of her hand.

"Are you all right, my love?" Robin asked softly.

She offered him a watery smile and nodded. She reached out a hand and he clasped it, pulling it to his mouth and kissing the back of it.

"I am just extraordinarily happy," she said. "Happier than I've been in a terribly long time . . . thank you."

"For?"

"Your love and your patience and your willingness to listen or to talk and especially for taking such a large role in the raising of our daughters. You know that you are an anomaly amongst men."

He sat up and wrapped his arms around her and kissed her temple. "I love you more than life itself, Marian. I will do whatever it takes."

She sniffed back her surging emotions and glanced at the girls.

Ellie had tumbled over and lay looking at her sister with droopy eyes, her left thumb in her mouth. She would be asleep in a few minutes time.

Claire smiled down at her little sister. "Shall I tell you a story, Ellie?"

Ellie nodded and Claire launched into a story about a pair of princesses who rode across England doing good things for people in need.

Marian and Robin both chuckled at the wild tale being woven by their oldest. Ellie fell asleep before the mid-way point, and Claire herself lay down beside her sister and now blinked heavily in the dappled shade that slanted across their blanket. A short time later, she too succumbed to sleep.

"Claire napping . . . that doesn't happen often," Robin murmured and then nuzzled Marian's neck.

Pleasure shivered through her and she smiled, leaning into Robin's embrace. She'd overcome her fear, mostly, and had learned to enjoy, even welcome, his loving attentions.

"Maybe we should take advantage..." he mumbled, pressing a kiss to and then laving that spot at the curve of her shoulder that never failed to make her belly quiver.

"Maybe we should..." she whispered, hear heart fluttering with nerves. She'd been trying to become more playful. While she couldn't yet bring herself to instigate such acts, it was high time she responded positively to Robin's overtures.

He looked at her in surprise. "Really?" he croaked, desire making his tone husky.

She smiled at his shock. "A little, Robin, just a little." She really wasn't into public exhibitionism although she knew they were alone. Except for the girls who could, realistically, wake up at any time. She certainly wasn't prepared to answer any embarrassing question about why Da Da Da's hand or anything else was up Ma Ma Ma's gown.

He pulled her fully into his arms and onto his lap and kissed her thoroughly.

And she let him.

~ Fin ~

_The (second) alternate universe Marian and the (nice) Guy of Gisborne…_

Guy de Gisborne, Lord of Locksley and Earl of Huntingdon rode into the courtyard of Locksley Manor. It was a quaint abode and suited him well. He was glad to be home, and he returned with the favor of King Richard and some additional titles. And now that his mission was complete and his positions guaranteed for the near future, Guy was ready to take a wife.

Lady Marian's creamy countenance and voluptuous form appeared in his mind's eye. He and Marian had developed a friendship over the past year or so. Their initial introduction had been odd, to say the least. But once she'd recovered from whatever malady from which she'd suffered at the time and had properly grieved for the former Locksley, they had developed a friendship. Guy had grown to care for her, and he believed she for him as well.

His body stirred at the thought of her in his arms and in his bed. He couldn't deny he'd imagined intimacies between them once or twice, but she was a lady. They'd kissed once, during the celebration of the new year, and he'd found it quite enjoyable. Nay more than enjoyable. And she had been moved as well.

It was time to press his suit.

Dismounting, Guy handed the reins to Much who had become, for all intents and purposes, his new manservant. "You've earned yourself several days off, Much. I'll see you in four days time."

"Thank you, milord," Much replied with tilt of his head and tugged the horses into the barn.

He'd had good training under the former lord and he'd fought in the Crusades. The man was quiet and unassuming and served Guy well. And after losing his previous master, he really had nowhere else to go.

At the sound of hooves, Guy stopped on the threshold of the manor and turned. _Lady Marian._

She reined her mount to a stop. "Hello, Guy."

His gut, and other things, quivered at the warm silk of her voice. He'd been too long without female _companionship_ and his earlier musings left him a bit randy.

"Marian." He greeted her with a half bow and stepped forward to help her from her horse. "I was just thinking about you."

"Oh?" She slid to the ground, her face upturned and a welcoming expression in her eyes. Her hand snaked up his arm and cupped his neck, the gentle pressure encouraging him to dip his head forward. She pressed a kiss to his cheek and then whispered, "I've been thinking of you, too."

He was instantly hard and pulled away from her. Too late. She smirked, a knowing look darkening the blue of her eyes as she swept past him and into the manor.

Guy swallowed a groan and followed her inside. It was her playful mood. One he enjoyed although it taxed his self-control. And his self-control was wearing thin these days.

Her gaze swept the room and then she turned and met his. "It appears your servants are all on holiday."

He nodded. "Since I was gone to London for a fortnight, I sent everyone to visit relatives. Much was with me, though I dismissed him for a few days. I imagine he'll make his way to the Tripp once he's done with my horse."

"So we are alone." She arched a brow in query.

Had he imagined it or was she intrigued by the notion? His breeches grew tighter. "So it would seem."

"Is my virtue in jeopardy?"

What was she playing at? "Not unless you wish it to be."

She looked away and sighed.

"Shall I recall Much to act as chaperone?" Guy asked, indicating toward the barn. "I certainly wouldn't want to besmirch your reputation by accident."

She shook her head. "The shire has written me off as a spinster. If it weren't for my father, I'd welcome the scandal. And since no one's about, I'm not overly worried." She meandered around the room. "I am glad you have returned safely. I hope your business was successful."

"It was. So much, in fact, that I have decided it's high time I marry and give Locksley and myself a mistress."

She whirled back to face him. "Oh?" she asked, her voice indifferent, though interest and worry fought for dominance of her features in equal measure.

He nodded and tried to keep his own expression neutral though he wanted to smile. "Would you be interested in the job?"

Her brows drew together. "Job? Are you going to post a notice at the Tripp? Wanted, wife and mistress for Locksley Manor. Wages, two pounds a week plus _benefits_."

Her surprise amused him and he laughed this time. "Gotcha." He crossed to where she stood, took her hands and kissed them, growing serious. "Marian . . . when I think marriage, I think only of you. I do not know that we have crossed from deep affection to love, but I think we would get on well together and that in time, love would grow. Will you consider my proposal?"

A pretty flush colored her cheeks. "Yes . . . and yes. I'd be honored to be the mistress of Locksley and delighted to be yours."

~ Fin ~

Authors Note: Many many heartfelt thanks to all of you who read and reviewed this story. Your kind words and enjoyment of this tale were such an added bonus to the whole process (in alphabetical order to make sure I mentioned everyone): 1LovesLatin3, 88Mary88, AKlimesh, Alex Joleta, annabel19, be93, bgrace222, camelotGirl, Catindahat, CeCeAway, CindyUSA, Emery3842, Emrisah, EnamelMina, FireSpringRoses, Fra ITA, GraniaMhaol, I Keep Goldfish In My Bra, Jammeke, JessaMae, jjjc, jonasluva, Kerrison, Kirsty Joy, LadyKate1, livluvdance2992, Love Jonas101, Luna 12, Magpie287, Marjatta, monoui, moonlightfaery, msmarvelfreak, muchbeddled, MyEternalPassion, Nathol99, Nessa, NewsgirlxRider, Novindalf, pipsqueak66, Rawr I'm A Toaster, rawr52, RebelYell1205, rh2006fan, , Teenageoutlaw, TwilightObsessedOECD, WhitePurity, xPrincetonx


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